


Always getting in to trouble series - Sterek version

by Littleredridinghunter



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Scott, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awesome Bobby Singer, BAMF Stiles, Bad Decisions, Bad Parent John Winchester, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Emotional Manipulation, Eternal Sterek, F/M, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt Stiles, John Winchester Being an Asshole, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Near Death Experiences, Pining Derek, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Derek, Protective Sam Winchester, Protective Stiles Stilinski, Psychological Torture, Scarred Stiles, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Scott is a Bad Friend, Scott is a Good Friend, Slow Build, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski & Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester are Cousins, Stiles Stilinski is Derek Hale's Anchor, Stiles Stilinski is Not Amused, Stiles Stilinski is a Winchester, Stiles-centric, Tattooed Stiles Stilinski, Temporary Character Death, Tortured Stiles Stilinski, maybe a disappointing ending, stiles is pushed out of the pack sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 19:49:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 121,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17987522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littleredridinghunter/pseuds/Littleredridinghunter
Summary: Based on season 1 Supernatural and part way through season 5 Teen WolfChapter 1 - Sam and Dean try to track down their Dad. Turns out he might be hiding in Beacon Hills where they have more family than they thought. Soon they get sucked into the world of their Cousin Stiles and his supernatural friends.Chapter 2 - After the events of 'A hunt in beacon hills' there's a new bad in town. People are going missing and Sam and Dean are the latest to disappear. Stiles wants to find them but there's a witch around and things aren't always what they seem. Scott and the pack push Stiles away to protect him from the latest threat, but they might just be pushing him towards more danger.Chapter 3 - It's six months since Stiles was taken. But now he's back and there's something he's not telling the pack. Just Stiles getting into trouble again as per usual. But this time the pack has his back.





	1. A hunt in Beacon Hills

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-write of the first fics I wrote. Originally they were Stydia. But since Sterek is my OTP, I've re-written them as I can't bare to read these with Stydia in them. I've added a few different bits in and amended a few things, but, if you've read those fics, you'll see the dialogue is a lot of the same stuff etc. Although I'm pretty amazed by how much my writing has changed and (I think) improved since I started doing this!
> 
> Just to clarify a few things, the things that Catherine shows Stiles isn't real. It's something that she creates just to mess with him. Also I've tagged rape/non-con, it's kind of really just some non-consensual touching. There's multiple POV's, hopefully it's pretty clear.

“Derek…” Stiles spoke in to the voicemail, his voice breaking with fear, with desperation, “Derek, I know, I know you had to get out of here…I know Beacon Hills brought you nothing but bad, and I’m sorry, I can’t believe I’m asking this of you, not when you’ve got out…But, god, Derek…” His voice cracked, tears filling his eyes, “I need you. I…something’s happened…I’ve done something…something awful…and I need…I need” Stiles sobbed, “God, Der…you…I need you Derek, I need you to come home, please. Please, I love…I love you Derek and I just, I need you to…” 

“This inbox is now full. Please call again.” An automatic voice cut off the rest of Stiles’ message and Stiles froze, staring at the phone in his hand, tears trickling down his cheeks, blood staining his hands as he rested them on the steering wheel of his jeep, the school just outside his windscreen. Donavon was dead in there, dead by Stiles’ hand, god, he wished Derek was here, he wished he could see the older man, take strength from him, he knew if Derek was here, he wouldn’t be scared, petrified, Derek would make sure everything was okay. 

He hadn’t realised he was falling in love with the man, hadn’t realised how much Derek meant to him. He never could have predicted it the first time he’d met him. Of course at that point in time Stiles also hadn’t known about werewolves, banshees, darach’s, kanima’s, nogitsunes, hunters and Alpha packs. No, back then Stiles’ life had been simple. Except then Scott had been bitten and turned in to a werewolf and Derek had been there, trying to help as much as he could, admittedly, he hadn’t been much help, but Stiles could see he’d been trying, that was what mattered. 

So much craziness had happened, so many times that Stiles had nearly died and Derek had saved his life, so many times Stiles had returned the favour. Stiles actually thought they’d been getting closer, become friends, his crush on Lydia had vanished around the time he’d been forced to keep Derek afloat in the pool for two hours while he was paralyzed by kanima venom. They’d stuck by each others sides and somehow they’d always made it through. 

They’d survived Peter – Derek’s crazy uncle – being the Alpha that had murdered Laura – Derek’s sister. They’d managed to kill Peter and Derek became Alpha. They’d survived Lydia going crazy as she came in to her banshee powers and kidnapped Derek to bring Peter back from the dead. Thankfully Lydia was no longer crazy and neither was Peter. They’d survived Scott falling in love with Allison – a hunter’s daughter. They’d survived her crazy aunt Kate – the person responsible for killing Derek’s family in a house fire six years ago. They’d survived Derek biting teenagers and one of them turning in to a kanima who ended up being controlled by a psychopath who murdered several people. They’d survived Alison’s grandfather – Gerard – turning up to get revenge for Kate’s death and taking it out on Stiles, Erica and Boyd, not that anyone other than the three of them knew about it. They’d survived an Alpha pack turning up and trying to kill Erica and Boyd – thankfully they escaped before anything bad happened. They’d survived Stiles sacrificing himself to the nemeton in order to try and save his dad’s life. Derek had been his emotional tether, the one to pull him back to this world. Stiles thought Lydia might have realised at that point that he was no longer in love with her, he hoped that Derek hadn’t realised. They’d survived Derek giving up his Alpha powers to save his sister Cora, and they’d survived Scott becoming a true Alpha. They’d even survived Stiles getting possessed by a demon and trying to murder everyone he was close to, Allison had been the only one injured in that, but, she made a full recovery which Stiles was eternally grateful for, though it didn’t stop the nightmares he still had.

He didn’t realise he’d fallen in love with Derek, not to begin with anyway, except when Derek started seeing Jennifer – his teacher who ended up being the Darach that was murdering people - Stiles realised he was jealous. Of course, that relationship didn’t last very long once Jennifer was exposed and Stiles thought that maybe he could convince Derek to give him a chance instead. Then everything happened with the nogitsune and in the aftermath, when Stiles was still confused and vulnerable, he somehow found himself in some kind of relationship with Malia, mainly because Derek had started dating Braeden and Stiles couldn’t bear to be alone. It wasn’t like Malia took advantage of him, it was just, Stiles didn’t know what he wanted. That wasn’t true. He wanted Derek. But he couldn’t have him, didn’t deserve him. And Stiles needed someone to be near him. Admittedly, maybe Malia wasn’t the best choice, she was still a bit wild at times, she didn’t understand his nightmares, but, she was trying, and Stiles appreciated it. 

Then Kate had returned, so longer dead, instead a werejaguar, turned in to one when Peter tore her throat out. The berserkers had come and taken Derek and Scott had agreed with Stiles, convinced to get the entire pack to follow them out in to the desert. Then Derek had nearly died, stabbed by a berserker when he was weakened by whatever Kate had done. Stiles had had to leave him to save Scott which felt so fucking wrong, but he’d done it regardless, and managed to save Scott, when he’d come back outside, it was to find that Derek was still alive and had managed to complete a full shift. 

Stiles had assumed that Derek would be coming home with them, coming back to Beacon Hills, except, he’d got in to the car with Braeden without anything more than a smile in their direction. 

He’d left them. He’d left Stiles. 

Stiles had tried to keep it together, tried to hide how upset he was, because nobody needed to know that he was heartbroken. With everything else going on, he didn’t want everyone else worrying about him. So he’d hidden it. Cora had stayed, as had Erica and Boyd, the pack was growing, becoming stable, becoming known for it’s ability to deal with anything that came at it. Stiles didn’t want to be a burden to them all. Didn’t want them to look after him. Not for something as silly as a broken heart. He tried to tell himself that Derek had left all of them too. That he’d left his sister. His pack. It wasn’t just Stiles that had been abandoned. And yet, still, Stiles was alone, and not even his confusing relationship with Malia made him feel any less alone.

But then this had happened, Donavan had attacked him, tried to kill him. Stiles had defended himself as best he could, but, it had resulted in Donavan’s death and Stiles knew he was being selfish, he knew it, he knew Derek was happy with Braeden, away from here. But, he needed him. He needed him and he didn’t know what else to do. 

Stiles waited minutes, hours, days, for any kind of contact from Derek. It never came. He felt what was left of his heart break. He’d confessed his love to the man and it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough.

 

Dean picked up the phone on the third ring, he looked at the name on the display and felt his stomach drop slightly. Their dad had been missing for months with no sign of him, Jess was dead, Sam was only just starting to get over the serious anger issues he had been experiencing, and Dean was only just holding it together. He flipped open the phone, already running a hand across his face to wipe the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes. “Bobby?” 

“Dean,” Bobby greeted, his voice crackling over the line.

“Have you heard from him?” He didn’t want his voice to betray his hope, keeping it as neutral as possible. 

“No. I’m sorry Dean.” Bobby sighed, “But I’ve got an idea as to where he might be next, if you boys fancy a trip.” 

Dean sat up straight in the bed, looking across at Sam who was sat at the kitchen table. Sam was gazing at Dean, his dark brown hair was much longer than Dean ever remembered it being, his hazel eyes full of despair as he searched through their dad’s journal for any sign of him. 

“Hang on Bobby, I’m going to put you on speaker.” Dean swung his legs out of the motel bed, his bare feet hitting the thin carpet, he winced slightly as his put his weight through his leg, his ankle still not completely healed from their last hunt. He put his phone on speaker and placed it on the table, pouring himself a cup of coffee and pulling up a chair as Bobby talked. 

“There’s something you boys should probably know and I doubt your dad ever told you.” 

Dean felt his shoulders sag, it seemed there was a lot their dad hadn’t told them before pulling his disappearing act. 

“It’s about your mom.” Bobby said.

“What about her?” Sam asked, immediately sitting up straighter and locking eyes with Dean. 

“Your mom had a sister, Claudia.” Dean looked to Sam, shock registering on both their faces. “She moved to a town on the outskirts of California, your dad only mentioned her once, I think you went to visit her when your mom was pregnant with Sam.” 

Dean cast his mind back, his vibrant green eyes getting lost in thought, he couldn’t remember any trip like that, his earliest memory was his mother’s death, everything else came afterwards. 

“I don’t remember.” He said quietly, hating how much his voice shook. 

“Why do you think he would go there?” Sam said slowly, trying to piece together the information, already searching for Claudia Campbell in the databases. 

“Well, there’s been a lot of strange activity in the town in the last few years, most of the evidence seems to have disappeared, there’s never been anything concrete, but people have died, animal attacks. Something doesn’t add up.” Bobby said gently, trying to let them get over the shock of finding out they had an aunt. “Most recently, there’s reports of strange things happening at an old graveyard just outside of town. Maybe, I don’t know,” Dean could practically hear Bobby scratching at his beard, “It might be something your dad might check out. Maybe even check on your aunt while he’s there.” Bobby finished. 

“Okay, well, thanks Bobby. We’ll check it out.” Sam said, speaking into the silence, Dean still sat there looking dumbfounded, why hadn’t their dad told them they had an aunt? He wondered what she was like, if she looked like their mom? If she remembered Dean? 

“What’s the name of the place?” Sam asked his voice solid and dependable, drawing Dean back into the conversation.

“It’s called Beacon Hills.”

Sam researched as they drove, the rumble of the impala steady under Dean the only thing steadying him as Sam informed him of what he found. “She’s dead.” He had said quietly an hour or so into the drive. “She died just over eight years ago.” Dean had gripped the wheel tighter, his foot pressed harder on the accelerator, as if by somehow getting there faster it would make it not true. Another person taken from him before he’d gotten the chance to know them. 

“How?” He asked, his throat tight. 

“The death certificate says frontotemporal dementia.” Dean sighed, at least it sounded normal, not something supernatural. “She got married to a cop.” Sam grinned, seeing the grim expression pass Dean’s face. 

“Great, just want we need.” He said rolling his eyes.

“On the plus side, it might be handy to have a cop on our side if it turns out there is a ghost there.” Sam said hopefully, trying to bring a smile to his brothers face. 

“Yeah, sure. What else?” Dean replied, turning off the highway after spotting the sign for Beacon Hills. 

“She had a kid.” That brought Dean up short and he glanced across at Sam. 

“We’ve got a cousin?” 

“Yeah, don’t know much about him, he was there when his mom died, poor kid was only ten. He seems like a decent enough kid, smart, his grades are good. Looks like he’s got a good group of friends around him.” Dean glanced over at the laptop. 

“What the hell are you looking at now?” 

“His facebook page.” 

“His what page?” Sam rolled his eyes. 

“Facebook Dean. It’s a social networking site.” 

Dean frowned, “Whatever man, let’s just look at this ghost thing.” He wasn’t going to admit that he was actually kind of excited to meet this kid. He wondered what he would be like, if he would be like Sam was at that age, god he hoped not, Sam had been such a pain in the ass at eighteen, before he ran off for college of course. 

“Okay, well, we’ve got people disappearing, there’s a rumour that people are being buried alive, kids with glowing eyes,” Sam trailed off and then sighed heavily, “If I’m honest, there’s so much paperwork here I don’t even know where to start. And I’m still trying to get over the fact that there’s a whole other side to our family that we didn’t even know about.” 

Dean nodded in agreement, “Yeah, I know, it’s a lot to take in.” He said solemnly as they entered the outskirts of town. “Where should we go?” Dean asked, unsure what to do now that they were here.

“Probably go meet our uncle. He’ll be at the sheriff’s office.” Sam suggested, Dean shrugged, he trusted that Sam would have the answers, he usually did. They drove down the quiet roads and pulled into the station in the late afternoon, turning off the rumble of the impala. 

“How do you want to do this?” Dean said pulling out his box of fake badges. Sam put his hand on the lid of the box and slowly closed it. 

“Maybe we go with the truth for once?” 

Dean shrugged, “Sure thing, but don’t say I didn’t tell you when this all blows up in our faces.” 

“Come on.” Sam said grinning and getting out of the car, “It won’t be that bad.” They walked across the car park, Dean’s feet felt like a dead weight as they strode towards the station. There was too much that was unexplained going on in this town, he would suggest that maybe his uncle and cousin found somewhere safer to live. 

Dean let out a little sigh of relief as the door opened and they walked into an air conditioned station. Sam was a step ahead of him and was already at the front desk, “Hi, we’re hoping to talk to Sheriff Stilinski if he’s free?” The guy on the desk looked around the same age as Sam, and he had that same worried expression, like there was too much going on that he didn’t understand. 

“Is he expecting you?” The man asked.

Sam glanced to Dean, “Erm, no, not really.” 

“Well can I let him know what it’s regarding?” 

“It’s a private matter.” Dean growled, he wasn’t about to tell this deputy about all the shit going on in his life right now. 

“Well, you’ll have to wait, he’s in with Stiles at the moment.” 

“Stiles?” Sam asked, not sure if he’d heard the guy right. 

The man rolled his eyes, “Stiles. His kid. You must be from out of town. Everyone here knows Stiles.”

“Great.” Dean said brightly, marching towards the office, “We need to talk to him too.” He was only a foot from the door when the deputy managed to get back in front of him, his hand was against Dean’s chest and Dean could literally feel the heat radiating from him. How hot did this guy run?

“Sorry.” Sam said apologizing and pulling Dean to the seats nearby. “My brother’s impatient. We’ll wait right here until he’s free.” Dean slumped into his seat, he wasn’t happy about this. He wasn’t used to just sitting waiting to be seen. It made him nervous, gave him time to think, and right now he hated thinking, he just wanted to act. 

“Stiles, I told you, no.” They could hear the Sheriff’s voice clearly as they sat in the seats waiting for him. 

“Dad, look, I promise, it’s not dangerous.” Dean fought back a laugh, it was obvious that whatever the kid was planning it was going to be dangerous, he could tell from the worry in the Sheriff’s voice.

“You say that every time, and look what’s happened. You’ve been beaten up, kidnapped, knocked out. Your car has been nearly destroyed over and over. Every time you say that you have to do it. Well, just let Scott deal with this one. Please Stiles.” There was silence for a moment. 

“What kind of person would I be if I just let my best friend walk into danger and didn’t even try to help him?” Stiles said quietly. “I can’t do that dad. And we’re the only ones who can do anything about it. Nobody else can. I have to help if I can. I’m not asking for permission. I’m asking for you to not handcuff me again.” Sam was the one grinning this time, despite the obvious dangerous situation that Stiles was going to put himself in. Dean glanced across and saw that the deputy was no longer at his desk, he nudged Sam who nodded and they stood up quickly knocking on the door. 

There was a moment of silence before the door opened to reveal a man around their dads age. “Can I help you?” He said briskly. 

Dean seemed lost for words, staring at the man in front of them with confusion in his gaze, as if hoping for some kind of recognition, Sam spoke up instead, “Actually yes, Sheriff Stilinski?” 

“Yes. And you are?” 

“It’s kind of a long story. Can we come in?” The Sheriff opened the door wider and motioned them inside. 

“Stiles, you can leave. We can talk about this at home later.” Sam looked at the kid rising from the chair, he had dark brown hair, his eyes almost the same hazel as his own. He was a nice looking kid, bright-eyed, healthy, maybe a bit pale, and kind of tired looking but, still, he reminded Sam of himself a few years ago. 

“Actually Sheriff, we need to talk to Stiles too.” Sam watched as the kid’s eyes widened and he went a shade paler. The Sheriff looked to Stiles, a look that Dean had seen a thousand times, a ‘what have you got yourself into now?’ kind of look. He had seen that look in his father’s eyes too many times over the years. 

“Well, come in, sit down.” The Sheriff said, offering them the chairs opposite his desk. Stiles stood quietly at the side of his dad’s desk, although Dean had a feeling that he wasn’t usually so quiet.

“Erm, well, yeah, I’m not sure how to start with this.” Sam said, glancing to Dean for help. 

Dean finally found his voice and started with the simplest fact. “Our mother was Mary Campbell. Our father is John Winchester.” The Sheriff sat in silence for a moment, obviously letting the information sink in, Stiles was looking to him in confusion, obviously waiting for an explanation. 

“So you’d be Dean? And Sam is it?” The Sheriff said eventually. Dean let go of the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Sam nodded enthusiastically. Stilinski stood up from his desk and strode around to give them a hug, “Sorry, this is kind of a shock, I see it now Dean, you haven’t changed.” Dean grinned back, almost instantly at ease, “And Sam, god, last time I saw you, you were still a bump in your mom’s belly.” His smile faded slightly, “I’m sorry about your mom.” Sam tried to shrug it off, but he couldn’t help the tightness in his throat, this man had known their mom, he must have known what a loss it was to them.

“Hello?” Stiles called out from the side of the room, “Anyone fancy telling me what’s going on here?” Stilinski swiped a hand across his face, no doubt just trying to give himself a moment to recover. 

“Yes, right, sorry, you won’t remember me, but, I’m Noah Stilinski, but you can call me Noah, and, this is Stiles.” Noah paused, hesitating slightly, “Stiles, this is Dean, and, Sam Winchester. They are your cousins.” It was comical the way that Stile’s mouth dropped open and then hung there, the shock wiping his features clean, and for the first time he looked like a kid. 

“You’re going to swallow a fly if you stay like that.” Dean said a minute later which seemed to bring Stiles crashing back into the room. 

“What? How? Who? How? What!?” He said quickly his hands waving all over the place as he talked. 

“Your mom had a sister. She had two boys, Dean and Sam, we never got to meet you,” He gestured to Sam, “We were going to come over for the Christmas holidays, but then, everything happened, and John, he well, he didn’t want us there.” He looked to Dean with sorrow in his eyes, “I’m sorry we weren’t there for you. I know that time was difficult. I wanted to be, so did Claudia, but, your dad, he…we couldn’t locate you, and, by the time we finally tracked you down, Claudia was ill, I got in touch with your dad, asked him to come say his goodbyes, he never did, and, after that, I guess, you’d moved on again and I never managed to track you since. Didn’t stop me trying. But, you boys are good at not being found unless you want to be.” Dean shrugged, not willing to show how touched he was by the care in this man’s voice. 

“It’s no big deal, something we picked up over the years. Look, the reason we’re here now, our dad’s missing. We only found out about you yesterday, and we thought maybe he might have made an appearance?” 

Stilinski sighed, wiping a hand across his eyes, “I’m sorry boys, I haven’t seen your dad in over twenty years.” The silence weighed heavy on them. The door opened suddenly and the deputy stuck his head in, he glowered at Dean, and Dean was sure this time that he eyes really did glow. 

“Sheriff, there’s a phone call for you.” 

“Thanks Parrish.” 

“You want me to get rid of these two for you?” 

“No, it’s fine. Parrish, these are my nephews, Dean and Sam Winchester.” Parrish nodded in their direction, but he still looked angry. “I’ve got to go take this call, you guys okay for a minute?” His look was directed at Stiles.

“Yes dad, unless you want to go lock me in one of the cells while you take your two minute phone call?” He answered sarcastically. Dean fought back a grin. 

“Don’t tempt me.” Stilinski said as he disappeared out of the door. 

Stiles observed the two men while they sat there, he guessed they were probably just as shocked as his was that he had cousins, two of them, and they were kind of scary looking actually, they would have made Derek look like a kicked puppy. He tried not to grin at his own thoughts. He wanted to ask them to track Derek down and kick him on Stiles’ behalf, but he decided against it, so Derek had left him, so what? Stiles would be a grown up and handle this like a grown up. By that he meant pretending that Derek Hale never existed and he meant nothing to him.

“So, I guess this is a shock for you too?” The younger one asked, he was Sam, Sam Winchester, he’d heard that name somewhere before he was sure, seen it written down somewhere. 

“Yeah, you could say that. Usually you know, I’m a lot more competent at stringing together sentences, but when family members pop up out of nowhere, it’s kind of a lot to wrap my head around.” Stiles said, still thinking about the name Winchester. He was sure he had read it somewhere. He pushed away from the windowsill and strolled around the office, moving around seemed to help slightly, he didn’t know he was practically pacing. 

“Geez, kid, can you give it a rest? You’re making me dizzy.” Dean said. 

“Sorry grandpa.” Stiles said sarcastically automatically, and then realized what he’d done. He looked to Dean and was glad to see he was grinning, Stiles felt a grin on his own lips, the first genuine one since last month, since Donovan, no, he couldn’t think about that. Not right now. He had to figure out where he knew the name Winchester from. He looked and saw Sam was smiling too. “What? I got something on my face?” 

Sam’s grin widened. “No, just you’re more like Dean than I first thought.” Dean and Stiles both managed to look offended, before glancing at each other and smiling. There was a moment of silence before Stiles took up his train of thought again. 

“I think I’ve seen your name before somewhere, Winchester, you’ve not got any famous relatives? Maybe that might appear in my history class?” 

Sam looked to Dean who shrugged, “Don’t look at me, you’re the nerd.” 

Sam laughed, “Jerk.” 

“Bitch.” 

Stiles looked to them like they maybe were a little bit crazy after all. Sam sobered up, shooting a wry grin in Stiles’ direction.

“No. Sorry. Just the three of us as far as I know, well as far as I knew. Bit weird to find out we’ve suddenly got extra family.” Sam said quietly.

Stiles let out a low chuckle, “Tell me about it.” 

“So,” Dean asked, “What about you? Is it just you and your dad?” 

“Yeah.” Stiles said quietly, “My mom died a few years ago, which you just heard. It’s just the two of us.” Dean winced at the sorrow in Stiles’ voice. 

“I’m sorry Stiles. I know it’s, well, there’s no words for it.”

Stiles nodded, “Yeah, I guess you guys know that. You must have been pretty young then? When you lost your mom?” He asked. 

“I was only six months, I don’t remember her at all, Dean was four, he still has a few memories of her, he used to tell me about her to get me to go to sleep.” Sam explained and Stiles looked at them both sadly. 

“I’m sorry.”

“One of those things.” Dean said dismissively, obviously not wanting to talk about it. 

Stiles’ glanced at the clock on the wall, he needed to get going, Scott and Theo would be here any moment. He needed to have an answer for them about what was out in that graveyard. He couldn’t send them in blind. Stiles wasn’t sure why, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t another chimera, it felt worse somehow, like it was pulling every inch of fear, despair, sorrow and guilt to the surface, like it was wiping any memory of happiness from him. He hadn’t dared to go out there again, but he had to, they had to go tonight, they needed to figure out what it was before more people died. Maybe if he managed to save one person it might somehow make up for Donovan, maybe. 

“Kid you okay?” Dean asked. Stiles looked at Dean’s worried face, he must have zoned out for a moment there. 

“Sorry, just thinking.” 

“Anything we can help with?” Sam asked, his voice laced with concern. Stiles sighed, he barely knew these guys, and yet he felt like they were good guys, he felt like he could trust them, not at all how he had felt with Theo. Theo who knew his worst secret. The fact that he was a murderer. He sighed heavily, he wasn’t going to drag these guys into his mess. 

“Nah, just you know, schoolwork to do.” 

The door banged open suddenly making the three of them jump. Theo and Scott were there, out of breath, looking like they’d run all the way from school. It took Stiles a second to register that both Sam and Dean had weapons drawn and pointing at Scott and Theo. In the next moment they were already lowering them, as if assessing the threat and deciding there was none. It was the next second when all things went to hell. Stiles remembered where he had seen the name Winchester at the exact same time that Theo lost control and his eyes glowed amber. Dean’s gun was back at eye level within the next second, Sam and Scott already trying to calm the other two down. 

“What the hell are you?” Dean demanded, not seeming to care that the door was still wide open. Stiles ran across the room and slammed the door shut before stepping in front of Dean’s gun. 

“Dean, calm down, they are okay.” 

“Kid, move out of my way. I don’t want you getting hurt.” 

Sam sighed, rolling his eyes, “Dean, you’re not about to shoot Stiles.” 

“I’m considering it.” Dean replied still glaring at Theo, he didn’t know what the hell this guy was, but, Dean had no issues in shooting him down right now, if that’s what it took to keep Sam safe, to keep Stiles safe. He knew he’d only just found out about Stiles and Noah, but, he also knew he’d kill for them instantly. 

“Sure, if you’re going to shoot me then the middle of the police station is definitely the right place to do it if you want to spend the rest of your life in prison. I mean I’ve had enough guns pointed at my head, it’s kind of getting boring, maybe spice it up and actually shooting me would be good.” Stiles replied sarcastically. Dean couldn’t help but grin, he liked the kid’s style. He took a step backwards and lowered the gun slightly but didn’t put it away, he was still ready to shoot at a moment’s notice. 

“You going to tell me what the hell is going on Stiles?” Scott asked at the same time as Dean. 

“You said your dad’s name is John?” Stiles asked, Sam nodded in reply, “Well, I read his name, in the Argent’s journals. He was a hunter.” 

“Who the hell are the Argents?” Dean demanded, Sam pursed his lips in thought, trying to recall where he’d seen that name before.

“Dad worked with a guy, was it Grant or Gregory Argent maybe? I’m sure I’ve read his name in dad’s journal. It was years ago, back when he first started out. I’m sure I saw the name Argent the other day.” 

“Gerard. His name is Gerard.” Stiles said, trying not to think about that night in the basement, the scars he still bore from his interaction with the hunter, the monster.

“Fine. Gerard Argent. The werewolf hunter. Fine.” Dean replied gruffly, his hand still tight on his gun. “You aren’t a hunter though.” He said to Theo, “So what are you?” 

Stiles shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Hey, how about you guys go to the clinic and I’ll meet you there later?” He said to Scott. 

“Not until I know why you’re hanging around with hunters.” Scott replied. 

“They’re my cousins. I didn’t know I had them until today, so can we talk about this later?” 

Scott registered Stiles’ raised heartbeat, obviously aware of just how freaked out Stiles was. He knew there was something going on with Stiles recently, he’d been different since Derek had left, but, Scott didn’t know what it was and, if he was honest with himself, being Alpha, trying to look after an entire pack, getting Stiles to talk to him about stuff, it just wasn’t high on his priority list. He felt bad about it, but, he just had to hope Stiles would come to him when he was ready to talk. “Fine. But get there quickly. We have stuff to sort out.” Stiles nodded, glad that he’d at least avoided one nightmare. 

“Wait a second.” Sam said loudly, “Tell us what you are first. Then we can talk about you leaving.” Stiles sighed loudly and a bit dramatically, this day was going to be a long one, he just knew it! He wished he’d stayed in bed, it’s not like he’d be sleeping, his nightmares had only worsened of late, but, at least if he’d stayed in bed he wouldn’t be dealing with this situation right now.

“I told you, they’re not going to hurt you.” Stiles insisted.

Dean rolled his eyes, “We’ve heard that kind of crap before. We’ll be the judge, thanks.” Stiles felt like honest to god stomping his foot on the floor in a temper, he couldn’t face dealing with this right now, he just wanted to sleep, to rest for a solid eight hours without the nightmares waking him, without seeing Donovan’s face, or Derek’s, or his mom’s, all of them knowing what he was. A monster. A murderer. Not worthy of love.

“Fine. If you’re so insistent in knowing the truth.” Scott said, surprising them all. “I’m a werewolf, Theo’s a chimera.” 

“And you’re trying to tell me you’re not dangerous?” Sam said. 

“No. I didn’t say I’m not dangerous. I am. But not to humans.” Scott said, his eyes flashing red. 

“You can control it?” Sam asked, curiosity now a bigger factor than fear. 

“Yeah, I struggle a bit more on full moons, but I’ve never killed a human, no one in my pack has.” He said proudly, Dean didn’t miss the way Stiles’ looked to the ground, a frown on his lips and obvious discomfort at this situation. 

“Why should we believe you?” Sam asked.

“You don’t have to, but right now, we’ve got bigger issues than you two.” Scott replied turning toward the door, “We’ll see you in a bit Stiles, we need to get that thing sorted?” Stiles nodded and Scott and Theo disappeared out of the door, glancing back at Sam and Dean, studying them for a moment before the door shut behind them.

“So,” Stiles started uncomfortably, unsure where to start. “You guys are hunters then?” Dean rolled his eyes. 

“Obviously.” 

“And your dad worked with the Argents?” 

“Once, a long time ago, and I don’t think dad thought very highly of that Gerard guy.” 

“Well, that’s good, because he’s evil.” 

“On a scale of one to ten?” Dean asked

“An eleven, he threatened to kill his granddaughter unless he got bitten by the alpha. It’s a long story but yeah, he’s evil.” Stiles said, trying not to think about that night, what abuse his body had suffered at Gerard’s hands, what the man had taunted him with, the mental abuse perhaps worse than the physical. Of course, he’d always told Erica and Boyd that it was nothing, he had sworn them to secrecy and they had kept their word, it was something Stiles was eternally grateful for.

“Sounds like it. So what’s this bigger thing you’ve got going on? The graveyard by any chance?” Dean said. 

Stiles looked at him in surprise, “Yeah, actually, yeah it is.” The door swung open as Noah came back into the office. 

“I thought I saw Scott and Theo in here?” He asked in confusion.

“They were, they left again. Okay dad, quick catch up,” Stiles said, taking a breath and trying to wrap his head around everything that had just happened, “Sam and Dean are hunters like the Argents. We’re going to go back to the house and go over my notes.” Sam and Dean looked at him in surprise, they didn’t remember agreeing to that, “And then we’re going to go to the clinic, get Scott and go to the graveyard and end this thing. I’ve got a werewolf pack and two hunters, now is it okay to go?”  
Noah looked at them in shock as if trying to process all of the information, but it looked like he was struggling with the fact that they were hunters most of all. 

“Okay.” He said eventually. “But Stiles, I mean it, if you come back injured in any way then I’m handcuffing you to my desk for the next two weeks.” Sam and Dean grinned. Dean swung his arm around the kids shoulder. 

“Don’t worry sir, we’ll watch out for him.” 

Stiles seemed genuinely surprised that they were being nice to him, and Dean really didn’t like the look in the kid’s eyes when he drifted off into his own thoughts, he swore to himself that he was going to have to figure out what that was about. They had followed him to his home, Stiles spent the next ten minutes just talking about the impala and how much he wanted a car like that some day. It was obvious that the kid was nervous. 

“Why don’t you show us your notes?” Sam said eventually. Stiles nodded seriously and led them upstairs to his room, Dean wasn’t sure what he had expected, but it wasn’t this. Stiles had a board set up with all the victims so far, details of where they were last seen, anything that they had in common, if the body had appeared, where it had shown up and how long since their disappearance. Not to mention the post-mortem’s describing in detail how they had died, it seemed that all the victim’s had been beaten to death and then, if the reports were to be believed, parts of them were eaten. It was the most detailed report that Sam had ever seen and Dean could practically see Sam’s eyes light up. “This is, Stiles, this is amazing.” Sam said, almost lost for words. 

“Well, erm, I guess.” Stiles said modestly. Sam was already studying the board and Stiles started explaining what he knew, “I know I’m missing something, if I just head out there again, I know I’ll figure it out.” 

“Why don’t you?” Dean asked from where he was lounging on the bed. 

“I just, I guess…” He squared his shoulders, “I am going back out there. Tonight.” They spent a little while looking over the notes, Sam had pulled out John’s journal and was comparing it with the copy of the Argent’s that Stiles had. “Well, I’ve got to get to the clinic. Do you guys want to come?” 

Sam was so engrossed in the books that he barely even registered Stiles had spoken, Dean threw a pillow at him, “What?” 

“You want to come with us to the clinic or you staying here, nerd?” Sam glanced back at the books, Dean sighed, “Whatever Einstein, you stay here, me and Stiles will head across to the clinic, we’ll call you later and you can come meet us so we can go to the graveyard.”

“Okay, yeah, sure.” Sam said, already turning back to the books. Stiles glanced at him with concern.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s toilet trained.” Stiles laughed and followed Dean out of the room.

 

“Scott, there’s something I need to tell you.” Theo glanced at Scott, he had to get this to work, he needed to separate Scott from Stiles, especially now there were two other hunters on the scene. It was the only way, admittedly, he would have preferred more time, but, he had to separate the two of them, he had to destroy Scott’s pack and he had to get void Stiles, he knew he’d never achieve his goals if the two of them were together.

“Alright what is it? About the graveyard? Stiles is going to figure out what it is, I’m sure of it.” Scott said, Theo sighed heavily, hoping it sounded like this wasn’t an easy decision for him to make.

“No, it’s about Stiles and Donovan.” He kept his heartbeat steady, lying had always come easy to him. 

“What about them?” Scott said already feeling worry rising, he knew something was off with Stiles, was it Donovan? Was Stiles worried about him going after his dad?

“I couldn’t stop him, I only saw the last minute of it. By the time I got to him, it was already too late.” Theo confessed quietly and Scott slowed down the vehicle, turning to look at Theo. 

“What do you mean?” Scott said, his eyes wide and panic in his voice. 

“Look in the glovebox.” Scott opened it slowly, surprised to find Stiles’ spanner in there. 

“What is this? Theo just tell me what’s going on.” Scott didn’t have time for games, with everything else going on he needed Theo to just spit it out already.

Theo sighed heavily, knowing that he had Scott hook, line and sinker. “Donovan attacked Stiles, I want to say it was self-defence, but Stiles got him on the floor and he started to hit him with the spanner, and he just kept hitting him.” Theo put all of his acting ability into the display of information. “It just stopped being self-defence.” He said finally, letting his words sink in as Scott stared at him in disbelief. 

“No!” Scott said, wanting to not believe it, but some part of it making sense. He thought back to how Stiles had been over the past few weeks, how much he had wanted Donovan dead, how strange he had been acting. It must be true. God. Stiles had killed Donovan. Murdered him in cold blood. He couldn’t believe it, but, Scott knew with sudden clarity that this is what had been weighing on Stiles’ mind. It was true. Stiles was a murderer.

 

By the time Stiles and Dean got to the clinic it was pouring down with rain. They’d gone in Stiles’ jeep, leaving Sam with his books, Dean sat in the passenger seat, pointing out what work needed doing, “I can get you some good parts, we’ve got a friend who owns a scrap yard, we can have a weekend fixing it up if you fancy it?” 

Stiles grinned, “Yeah, that would be great, thanks man.” Stiles said, genuinely unable to believe how nice Sam and Dean were being to him. He didn’t deserve this. They wouldn’t want to be related to him if they knew what he’d done. Scott was outside waiting in the rain for him and Stiles felt his stomach drop. He got out of the jeep and walked towards Scott, Dean stayed by the side of the jeep obviously sensing the tension, knowing something was going on, he just wasn’t sure what.

“You dropped this.” Scott said holding out Stiles’ spanner. Stiles took it and wanted to throw up, he couldn’t believe this was happening, not now, he couldn’t, he couldn’t handle this. Scott was looking at him with such disgust, such contempt and Stiles felt himself shrink under his gaze.

“I can explain.” Stiles whimpered.

“I don’t want to hear it Stiles.” Scott said forcefully.

“Please Scott, he was going to kill…” Stiles began.

“It doesn’t matter Stiles, you know we don’t kill people. This pack does not kill humans. You killed him.” Scott growled.

Stiles felt like his heart was being torn from his chest, he knew this was how Scott was going to react, it was why he hadn’t said anything for so long, “Please, just give me the chance to explain.” 

“I don’t want to hear it Stiles. You want to explain how you murdered someone, go tell your dad.” Scott didn’t even glance at Dean, didn’t even acknowledge his presence, too focused on yelling at Stiles, “I want you to leave.” Stiles was struggling to hold back tears, looking so broken, so hurt, so destroyed by Scott’s words, but, Scott couldn’t fall for it. Stiles was a murderer and he couldn’t allow him to be part of the pack, couldn’t let the pack be tainted by his actions.

“Please Scott, just give me a chance. Please believe me.” Stiles begged.

“I want you to leave Stiles. You are not part of this. Go to your dad.” Scott insisted, “You are not pack and I don’t believe you.” Scott concluded and Stiles lost all colour, his mouth dropping open in shock, after everything they’d been through, he needed Scott to believe him, and…he didn’t.

Stiles spun on his heel and headed back to the jeep, refusing to look back at Scott, refusing to let the man he’d thought of as a brother see any weakness from him. He thought Stiles was a murderer. There was no coming back from this. Dean watched as Scott turned back to the clinic, his head heavy, obviously upset but still not looking back towards Stiles or Dean as they climbed in to the jeep and shut the doors behind them, finally getting out of the rain. Dean sat in the passenger seat and looked across at Stiles who was obviously fighting back tears, swiping at his face in an attempt to wipe away the raindrops, Dean knew there were at least some tears mixed in there, but, he didn’t want to mention it if Stiles didn’t.

Stiles fought back the tears and tried not to punch his steering wheel, not with Dean sat in there with him. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know what he wanted, well, no, that wasn’t true, he wanted Scott to believe him, he wanted Derek to be here, to tell him it was all okay, but, that wasn’t going to happen and Stiles needed to forget about Derek, now he guessed he needed to forget about any kind of relationship with Scott too.

“You okay?” Dean asked, knowing that this was the last thing that Stiles wanted or needed right now, but he had to ask anyway, Stiles took a deep breath and sat up straighter in his seat, determination on his face, he’d obviously reached some kind of decision.

“I’m fine.” Stiles said dismissively, it was obvious to both of them that Stiles was very far from fine. “We need to go to the graveyard, we’ve got to stop this thing before anybody else dies.” Stiles said keeping the hurt from his voice, and what right did he have to be hurt? Okay sure, Scott hadn’t let him explain himself, but why would he? Stiles was a murderer, he didn’t have the right to be hurting just because his best friend wouldn’t talk to him.

Dean nodded solemnly, “Okay, well, you know, if you want to talk…”

“I don’t want to talk okay?” Stiles said, hating the fact that he was snapping at Dean who he’d only just met really. He was just…hurting and confused and scared and he wanted Derek. He cursed internally. He was not the kind of person who needed a grumpy sourwolf to protect him. He was more than capable of looking after himself, he’d proven that, hadn’t he, by killing Donovan. The tears threatened to overwhelm him again and he cursed, gripping tighter to the steering wheel and concentrating on the road in front of him.

“Okay, well, just so you have my input, that guy’s a jerk.” Dean muttered and Stiles let out a humourless laugh.

“He’s not. He’s right. I’m a murderer.” Stiles said gripping the wheel tighter, fighting back the tears, trying not to think about the look on Scott’s face, the look of complete and utter disgust. 

“Stiles, I don’t know much, but I know a murderer when I meet one. And you are not a murderer. It will have been self-defence, you don’t have to tell me what happened, but I know you won’t have had any other choice.” Dean said seriously, Stiles wanted to believe him, but Scott’s words were echoing in his head, he didn’t want Stiles around anymore, he thought Stiles was a murderer. He remembered back when he’d been drugged at Lydia’s party, when an image of his dad had told him how his mother’s death was his fault, the words still echoed in his mind, still filled his nightmares.

“It’s you. It’s all you. You know every day I saw her in that hospital slowly dying. I thought how the hell am I supposed to raise this stupid kid on my own? This hyperactive little bastard who keeps ruining my life. It’s all you. It’s you, Stiles. You killed your mother. You hear me. You killed her and now you’re killing me.” 

Stiles fought back a shiver from his wet clothes, this was all his fault, his mom had died because of him, Derek didn’t want anything to do with him, he’d murdered Donovan. He had to make it better. He had to fix this somehow. He had to stop whatever this monster was, he had to try and save a life, he had to repay the debt, and he had to do it tonight, before he went to his dad, before his dad looked at him in the same way that Scott just had, before he disowned him as well. He had to do something to stop this pain. If he could save one life, maybe he’d feel less like the monster he knew he was, maybe he wouldn’t too, maybe it would make no difference, but, he had to try.

They pulled up to the graveyard, the rain pouring down the windscreen, and Stiles felt such a sense of dread. He glanced to Dean, looking at the older man, studying his reaction to being here.

“Do you feel that?” Stiles asked and Dean nodded, glancing out of the windows, looking around for where enemies could be hiding. 

“This isn’t an ordinary ghost anyway.” 

“A ghost?” Stiles spluttered in surprise, he hadn’t expected Dean to come out with that theory.

“Yeah. What you thought werewolves and chimeras were the only supernatural things in the world?” Dean said with a raised eyebrow.

Stiles looked at him in stunned silence, “No, but I guess, I didn’t think they were real.” 

Dean shrugged, “Well, they are. And bringing these emotions bubbling up is definitely not normal for ghosts.” He paused for a moment and then started to get out of the jeep. 

“Where are you going?” Stiles called after him, hating that he was already drenched again, he knew for a fact he was going to end up with a cold after this. He shook his head in bemusement, they were looking for a ghost in a graveyard and Stiles was thinking about getting a cold, when had his life got so weird? 

“I’m going to look for Casper.” Dean could see Stiles shivering and threw him his jacket, “Don’t lose it. It’s dads.” Stiles nodded. 

“So what’s the plan?” Stiles asked.

Dean pulled out a shotgun, “We’re going to get a look at this ghost, which mean that we need to draw it out.” 

“And how are we going to do that?” Stiles said, trying not to wallow in the despair that was filling up his brain. He was a murderer. He was a murderer and Scott thought so too. 

“I’m not really sure, I’m just winging it, but it’s more likely to pop up and say hi if we’re out here than sat in the jeep.” Dean grinned at him and Stiles shook his head with amusement. 

“Yeah, but it’s not nearly as warm.” He grumbled. Dean laughed as he led the way through the graveyard.

They must have only been out there maybe twenty minutes, but the rain was pounding down, they were struggling to stay upright as the ground turned to mud underneath their feet, Stiles knew he wasn’t coordinated at the best of times, this was just asking for trouble. 

“Okay, maybe this wasn’t the best idea.” Dean said, they were both soaked through, Stiles couldn’t stop shivering despite the determination on his face. “Let’s head back to the jeep until this storm lets up, then we can come up with a better plan.” 

Stiles nodded firmly, still fighting back his emotions, knowing how much Scott hated him, it was breaking his heart, tearing him up from the inside, it was all he could think about. He knew he should be focused on Dean, on the ghost, but, the only thought going around and around in his mind was that Scott thought he was a murderer, he wasn’t pack, he would never be welcome with them again, everything was destroyed. They were approaching the front of the jeep when Dean could have sworn he heard a noise behind him. He put his hand on Stiles’ arm to stop him moving forward and turned to survey the graveyard. 

“Must have been nothing.” Dean said doubtfully after a moment, he turned back towards the jeep and gasped in shock, reacting instantly, he reached out and pulled Stiles down to ground with him as the car toppled over on top of them. Dean opened his eyes and looked Stiles over, “You okay?” They were lying on the ground, every inch of them dripping wet and covered in mud, the bonnet of the jeep was slammed into the ground where they had been standing a moment earlier, its wheels up in the air. They got unsteadily to their feet, checking each other for injuries before Stiles turned to examine his jeep, the windscreen was shattered, one of the doors looked crumpled in, hopefully it wouldn’t be too much to fix. Stiles froze, it wasn’t like he was going to be around to fix it, he was going to be in prison for murder, his dad was going to have to arrest him and by the time he got out, if he ever got out, the jeep would be long gone. 

“I guess we pissed it off.” Stiles said quietly, fighting back the emotion in his voice, trying not to think about how his life was over, this was his last night of freedom.

“Yeah I guess so.” Dean grinned, “But, I have a bit of a knack for that so don’t be so surprised.” He teased, trying to reassure Stiles. Dean paused in his tracks, sure he’d heard something nearby. He cocked his head slightly, trying to strain his hearing to catch some kind of sound, but there was nothing. Dean thanked every instinct he had that he kept a tight grip on his gun when he felt a presence near him, he knew it was close by, it may be silent but Dean would never be caught off guard, he swung his shotgun around to face the ghost and was caught by complete surprise when it was a physical form in his path, not a ghost as he’d expected it to be. 

Dean had a quick moment to register the hole that went straight through the kids chest before he was thrown backwards into a headstone, he slid down to the ground, obviously knocked unconscious. Stiles paled at the sight in front of him, unable to believe his eyes, this was wrong, it had to be wrong, Donovan was dead, Stiles had killed him, and yet here he was, that feral grin still on his face, his eyes filled with anger. 

“I’m going to kill you Stiles, and then I’m going to kill your dad.” Donovan mocked. Stiles couldn’t breathe, his heart was hammering so fast in his chest he thought it was about to explode.

“You need to get some new lines dude. I’ve heard them all before.” Stiles said, trying to keep the terror from his voice. He knew Donovan would be able to hear the fear though, no doubt smell it too, he could probably even hear Stiles’ heart racing unsteadily in his chest as he stared at Donovan.

Stiles turned towards Dean who seemed to be coming around slowly, Stiles could see the blood running down the side of his face as he groaned, wiping at it with a muddy hand, obviously confused as to what had just happened. Stiles stumbled through the mud and grabbed hold of Dean’s elbow, pulling him to his feet, keeping one eye on Donovan the entire time.

“Come on Dean. Get up!” He pleaded, feeling Donovan right behind them, knowing he was running out of time, that if he didn’t act now Donovan was going to kill them both. He let go of Dean, wincing as the man dropped ungracefully back to the ground, instead Stiles reached and grabbed Dean’s shotgun, he swung around and Donovan was right there in front of him, he pulled the trigger but nothing happened. Both of them looked down at the gun, Stiles in confusion, Donovan in amusement. A moment later he was smacked backwards by Donovan, flying through the air, Stiles landed hard, all breath leaving his body, but he couldn’t stay down, not if he wanted to stay alive. He winced as he climbed to his feet, he had to get Dean and they had to get out of here before they were both killed. 

As terrified as Stiles was though, he couldn’t help but feel relief, Donovan was alive, he hadn’t killed him, he didn’t know how, he didn’t know how the boy in front of him was still walking around breathing and kicking their asses despite the fact he had a huge hole in his chest, but, it didn’t change the fact, Stiles wasn’t a murderer. He stumbled around the back of headstones, knowing that Donovan was just toying with him, walking calmly after him, smirking at him as Stiles stumbled through the mud, glancing over his shoulder ever other second. Stiles kept going anyway, he had to get back to Dean, they had to get out of here. He saw Dean getting unsteadily to his feet, swaying on the spot, bending down to pick up his gun, Stiles wanted to warn him that the gun didn’t work, but he didn’t have the spare breath to shout, his chest hurt, his spine hurt, god, he hurt everywhere.

“Stiles! Get down!” Dean roared over the wind. Stiles fell to the ground, not purposefully, more that he slipped in the mud, and a moment later there was a loud blast echoing over his head. Dean was next to him in a moment, pulling him up out of the mud, looking at him with concern even as blood still trickled in to his eyes from his own head wound.

“You okay?” Dean asked loudly, as if his ears were ringing, Stiles wouldn’t be surprised if they were, he was pretty sure his own were too.

“Fine.” Stiles replied, although his whole body seemed to be screaming that he wasn’t, he wanted to be dry, warm, lay down somewhere comfy where he didn’t have to move for the rest of his life. 

“Come on, it was only salt pellets he won’t be down for long.” Dean warned, both of them leaning on each other and weaving unsteadily back towards the entrance. They’d barely made it more than a few feet when Dean let out a surprised yelp as his legs were pulled from under him.

As soon as Dean hit the ground, Donovan was on top of him, pinning him to the floor, ripping the gun from his hand and launching it away from him, Stiles heard it hit something , perhaps another headstone, but he couldn’t see it through the pouring rain. Dean was doing his best to unseat Donovan, throw him off him, except Donovan was repeatedly punching him and it was obvious that Dean was in no condition to fight, that he was losing.

Stiles charged Donovan and threw all of his body weight into getting him off Dean, knocking him off Dean and tumbling sideways into the mud. Stiles landed underneath Donovan and before he could take a breath the hits started to land, he felt bones breaking under the force of them, he was trying to hold up his hands to defend himself but he didn’t have the energy, his arm was throbbing, his head, his chest, he couldn’t breathe. He was sure he was going to die. He glanced over to Dean who had not yet regained consciousness, but Stiles was sure he was still breathing, he tried to put up a fight, knowing when Donovan was done with him, that he’d kill Dean too, he tried to land his own punches, he tried to throw him off, but it was useless, he was going to die. 

“I’m going to enjoy eating you Stiles.” Donovan grinned down at him, Stiles tried to avoid the fist coming towards his face but there was nothing he could do, he had no strength left, he couldn’t stop it, he felt the punch connect and then everything went dark.

 

Sam must have lost track of time, he glanced at his watch; he thought he would have heard from Dean by now. Wasn’t Dean supposed to call him before they went out to the graveyard? He was sure that was what they agreed, maybe not, he’d been distracted by Stiles’ reports and had to admit that most of the conversation with Dean and Stiles had gone in one ear and out the other. He decided he’d just drive down to the animal clinic and go from there. Maybe Stiles and Dean had just got held up talking through the information with the rest of Scott’s pack. He wasn’t sure he could wrap his head around that, a good werewolf seemed quite a stretch, but then so was having an uncle and cousin that he knew nothing about, so, he’d just try and take it a minute at a time. He didn’t really want to shoot Scott or any of his pack, not when his cousin was friends with them, it would put a bit of a damper on their fledgling relationship, so he’d avoid doing it, unless it was an absolute necessity.

He closed the books he’d been reading and headed outside to the impala, putting his collar up against the wind and rain, cursing quietly, he hated hunting in the rain, he knew he couldn’t ask for ideal weather all the time, but, not hunting in the middle of a storm would be great. He drove quickly to the clinic, he looked at the other cars parked up and noticed that Stiles’ jeep wasn’t. He tried to ignore the way his stomach churned with worry, Dean and Stiles were together, wherever they were, they’d be fine, or that’s what he told himself. It would be fine. He knocked on the front door and waited, Scott opened the door a moment later, looking at his with contempt. 

“What do you want?” He said, his face tight with anger, Sam glared back at him, he didn’t know what had happened to piss the werewolf off, but he sure as well wasn’t going to look weak in front of him.

“I’m looking for Stiles and Dean, I thought they were here?” He asked in annoyance, glad when Scott took a step backwards and allowed Sam access to the room they were all gathered in.

“No.” Theo said from the corner of the room, “They left ages ago. Stiles,” He paused, glancing at Scott, “Well, Stiles wasn’t welcome.”

“I didn’t have a choice. You know I didn’t.” Scott said, his head hanging low in sorrow or guilt, Sam wasn’t sure which, and, honestly, he didn’t care, he just wanted to know where his brother and cousin were.

“I know that. But you need to tell the others.” Theo said in agreement, “They deserve to know the truth too.” Sam took a moment to look around the room, noticing for the first time the others in the room, there were so many kids in there, a dark haired girl who was sitting near where Scott had obviously just stood up from, Theo not far from her, a red haired girl sat on her other side, a curly haired blonde boy sat near the window with a mousey brown haired young girl sat next to him. On the other side of the room, there was a blonde girl who was sat in the lap of a dark-skinned mountain of a boy and next to the was another dark haired girl, with eyes that flashed blue in his direction, and a young boy next to her who was looking at Sam with confusion.

“You couldn’t find any werewolves not in puberty?” Sam joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“What am I, wallpaper?” A man appeared from the back room, he was definitely older than the rest of them, with dark hair and bright blue eyes.

“I’m actually a were-coyote.” The girl who had flashed blue eyes announced, “And Lydia’s a banshee.” She gestured to the red haired girl, “And Allison is a hunter,” She said about the dark haired girl in the corner, “But, yeah, Peter, Cora, Isaac, Erica, Boyd and Liam are all werewolves.” She confirmed and Sam’s eyebrows raised in surprise, Lydia was sat in the corner and glaring at Theo. 

“Thanks Malia, just share our secrets with a hunter why don’t you?” Lydia snapped but Sam could tell that she wasn’t really pissed with Malia because she was still glaring at Theo. 

“Well, Stiles told me it’s polite…” Malia argued. 

“And you’re listening to Stiles why?” Liam asked, “I mean, you guys aren’t together anymore, you split up.” 

“So? That doesn’t mean he doesn’t still care about me. Besides, he’s helping me be not so, ‘coyoteish’.”

“That’s not a word.” Peter said, “But, I appreciate the effort he’s putting in, training you to be a ‘real girl’ again.” 

“Yeah well it’s more effort than you ever put in.” Malia snarled, “You’re supposed to be my father, remember? Except Stiles is my anchor, he’s the one who cares about me staying human. Besides, it’s not a ‘real girl’ it’s remembering my humanity, excuse me if I’m a little rough around the edges, but, you know, I spent four years running around as an actual coyote because the woman I thought was my mom died in a crash I caused and you didn’t even bother looking for me. So, yeah, I’ll listen to Stiles.” She growled angrily. 

“It’s not like we don’t all listen to him anyway.” Erica interrupted. “Apart from Scott of course.” She muttered under her breath as Scott flushed guiltily. 

“What happened between Stiles and me isn’t important. What matters is that he’s no longer pack.” Scott said firmly.

“If you want my input…” Peter began.

“I don’t.” Scott snapped. 

“Fine, all I’m saying is, maybe we should be thinking what a certain someone has to gain by separating Stiles from the pack.” Peter continued, “Because the one thing I am very good at is manipulating people, and I’m also very good at spotting that trait in others. So, believe me when I say Theo wants Stiles separated from the pack. I’m just not sure why. Maybe you want him as a mate?” Peter asked. 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Theo scoffed, Peter paused, listening to his heartbeat, maybe he was telling the truth, maybe he wasn’t, it wasn’t easy to tell with Theo, it never was. 

“Of course, you’d have to be an idiot to try and interfere with Derek’s intentions, because you know he’ll rip your throat out without a second thought if you even think about going after Stiles…” 

“Who the hell is Derek?” Sam asked in confusion, trying to keep track of everything that was being said. 

“He’s not here right now.” Theo snapped, baring his teeth at Peter, “But, maybe you’re just wrong on this one old man. I don’t want Stiles, I just told Scott the truth.” 

“Which is what?” Lydia quizzed, “Why isn’t Stiles welcome here? I want to know. He’s your best friend Scott. He’s saved your life. He’s helped you so much. I don’t get what’s happened that you aren’t even talking to him?” Scott looked defeated, like a piece of him was broken. 

“I don’t really care why you’re acting like a shithead,” Sam interrupted, “I’m looking for my brother and my cousin. Can you tell me where they are or not?” Scott looked on the verge of tears, but it was Theo who spoke up. 

“They’ll probably be at the Sheriff’s station. Telling his dad that he killed Donovan.” There was a shocked silence in the room as his words sunk in. 

“He must have had a good reason.” Lydia said instantly jumping to Stiles’ defense.

“Yeah, there’s no way Stiles would kill anyone!” Cora agreed. 

“I thought so too.” Scott said sadly, “But what Theo saw, it wasn’t self-defense.” He said quietly, Sam did his best not to shake Scott, beat the stupidity out of him.

“And what did Stiles say? Did you look at the body? Did you check the facts?” Sam snapped and Scott glared at Sam like he was the bad guy here.

“There was no body. And Stiles admitted it. He said he killed him.” Scott said solemnly, the entire room was obviously in shock, all of them trying to process this, Stiles had killed Donovan, not in self-defense, he’d killed him, in cold blood. No, that couldn’t be right. They all knew it couldn’t be right. They knew Stiles. 

“You must be mistaken.” Erica said. 

“He’s not.” Scott argued. “Stiles admitted it.”

“You know Stiles! We all do! Do you honestly think he’s capable of killing someone in cold blood?” Allison said. 

“He nearly killed you.” 

“He was possessed and you know it Scott! Don’t you dare use that as an excuse.” Isaac snarled. 

“It doesn’t matter. He wasn’t possessed when I saw him kill Donovan.” Theo said simply.

“And you’re going to take the word of Theo over the word of Stiles? Someone you’ve only just met over Stiles?” Boyd said looking at Scott in disgust. 

“It’s not a case of who’s word I believe. Stiles admitted it. He admitted that he killed Donovan. What more do you want me to do?” Scott argued. 

“We want you to talk to Stiles, listen to him, get his version of what happened. If he murdered him, IF he did it, he’ll have had a good reason…” Lydia began, before she suddenly doubled over, clutching at her stomach, her eyes glazing over as she screamed out in pain. It was so loud it made Sam’s ears feel like they were about to explode, there was no doubt Lydia was a banshee. “Stiles.” She said a moment later into the silence as Allison rushed to her side, resting a hand on her shoulder.

“What?” Scott said rushing towards Lydia who was already moving towards the door.

“Stiles.” Lydia clarified, “He’s going to die.” 

Sam didn’t need to ask how she knew that, the looks on the faces in the room made him believe her instantly. He turned on his heel and sped from the room, he knew where they would go and it wouldn’t be the station, not if Stiles was anything like Dean. The rest of the pack were staring after him and then, suddenly, they all moved as one, rushing out of the clinic, moving towards their cars.

“We’re coming with you.” Scott said grabbing hold of Sam’s arm. 

“Fine. But if anything has happened to either of them I’ll kill you myself.” Sam snapped, he saw the rest of the pack piling into an assortment of vehicles, not sure if he should be surprised or not that Theo didn’t seem to be coming with them. He floored the accelerator, leaving the others in his wake as he raced towards the graveyard, praying he wouldn’t be too late.

 

Dean groaned as he regained consciousness, he was hanging in a cave, his feet barely scraping the floor, he groaned again, it felt like he had travelled back in time, he was sure it was only a few months ago that he had been tied up in another cave, waiting to get munched on by a wendigo. He glanced across the room, hating that it spent spikes of pain through his head and his gaze landed on Stiles. The kid was a mess, there was blood pooling at his feet from several wounds to his legs and torso, there was bruising across his face and Dean could hear the harsh rasp of his breathing from here, which meant broken ribs at least. 

“Stiles.” He whispered, hoping that he would wake up but there was no movement, “Stiles.” He said again, a little louder this time, “Kid, you with me?” 

“Urgh.” Stiles eventually replied, Dean grinned, he was alive; it was a start.

“That good huh?” Dean asked and Stiles only groaned in reply.

Stiles tried to open his eyes, tried to focus on Dean, but his head was spinning, he thought he might throw up, then changed his mind, he couldn’t be bothered to throw up, it would take too much effort he was sure. 

“Hey, Stiles, you’ve got to stay awake man.” Dean told him, Stiles groaned, he was fairly sure he was still awake, but, he couldn’t be sure, he kept tying to open his eyes, but, god, everything hurt so much, even breathing made it feel like his chest was on fire. 

“Talk to me, tell me what happened with you and Scott.” Dean said desperately, Stiles just groaned again, he didn’t feel like talking, he wanted to sleep, he really just wanted to give in to the blackness that was threatening to overwhelm him, but, he could hear the panic in Dean’s voice and he fought, with everything he had to stay awake, to open his eyes. 

“You talk, I’ll listen.” Stiles ground out, trying not to cry out in pain, it felt like his jaw was broken, Dean paused for a moment. 

“Alright, yeah, sure, I can do that.” Dean agreed, just glad that Stiles was talking, it wasn’t great, but, he was at least conscious, he could work with that. Dean glanced around the room, looking for any way out of here, there was a small part of him, a part that he really didn’t want to acknowledge, but that he couldn’t deny, a part that knew they weren’t getting out of here, and it scared him, and for once, when Stiles was barely conscious and nobody else was around to hear his admission, he thought he could actually be honest about it. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.

“Uh,” Dean cleared his throat uncomfortably, “Honestly, and don’t tell Sam I admitted this because he’ll never let me live it down, but, I’m scared. My dad’s missing. Sam’s girlfriend is dead. The same demon that killed our mom killed her. I’ve no idea where my dad is, you’re hurt. I’m hurt. I don’t feel like we can make it out of this. And I feel like I’ve got the weight of the world on my shoulders, and I’m not strong enough to hold it, and I can’t fail. I need to succeed, for Sam, but I know that I can’t keep doing this. And I’m terrified because I’m looking at you right now, and I see the exact same feeling in your eyes. And you’re too young to be dealing with this. To be feeling like this.” Dean sighed heavily, hoping that Stiles was still hanging on. There was a minute of silence before Stiles finally cleared his throat and let out a grimace of pain.

“I murdered Donovan.” His voice was hoarse and cracking but he kept going. “I was fixing my jeep and he attacked me, I managed to get away, get into the library, he was going to eat me. Well, only my legs, he was going to let me live until my dad got there and then he was going to kill him too. I was climbing the scaffolding, it was just one pin.” Stiles couldn’t help the tears spilling down his cheek, he hoped Dean couldn’t see them. “I pulled the pin and all the scaffolding fell. When I looked down a piece had gone straight through him. I couldn’t help him. I knew it was too late.” Stiles couldn’t stop the tears now, his chest heaving as he tried to finish his explanation even as it felt like his brain was going to explode with pain, “I didn’t know what to do, I panicked, and Scott hates me, I can’t have my dad hate me too. I just, I can’t.” Dean wanted nothing more than to pull Stiles into a tight hug but the ropes holding him place prevented him. 

“That’s self-defense to me. And it would be self-defense to anyone who actually bothered to listen to your side of the story.” Dean said, hoping that it would ease some of the guilt before they both died down here, that Stiles wouldn’t die believing he was a murderer, what Dean didn’t expect was for Stiles to let out a broken laugh, sounding so defeated that he didn’t know what to do.

“The thing is, I didn’t. He’s still alive. I’ve had this weight in the pit of my stomach for the past month, telling myself over and over that I’m a murderer, and, after all this, I didn’t kill him.” Stiles let out a weak grin but his thoughts were turning over and over, “Why didn’t it kill him?” Stiles asked himself, “It should have killed him. I was so sure he was dead.” 

“What kind of creature is he?” Dean asked, trying to put together any idea for how to escape, they were both conscious, there had to be a way out of here, they could come up with a way out if they just put their heads together.

“He was a kid. Just a kid. These doctors took him, experimented on him, turned him into a chimera.” Stiles explained, wincing as his jaw throbbed in pain.

“A what?” Dean asked. 

“Half human and half wendigo.” Stiles replied, the pain in his head seeming to crank up even more, he could barely see straight, everything hurt, even the sound of Dean’s nearby groan made his head hurt.

“Wendigo’s can only be killed by fire. Maybe you damaged him pretty well, but you couldn’t have killed him unless you set him on fire.” Dean informed him and Stiles grimaced.

“Oh.” Stiles said quietly, “Well, I guess he’s still alive then.” 

“Yeah, now we have to get out of here and warn Sam.” Dean replied, Stiles nodded, then regretted it, his head was spinning, he really thought he might be sick.

 

Scott was out of the car before Sam had completely stopped, racing towards the overturned jeep in front of them. 

“Stiles!” He screamed out, hoping for an answer, he was terrified, hearing Lydia say that Stiles was about to die, it made his heart race uncomfortably fast, made him recall the look on Stiles’ face as he stood in the car lot outside the clinic, how distraught he’d looked, how he’d begged Scott to give him a chance to explain. He should have listened. He should have made Stiles stay with them, he should have gone with him to see the Sheriff, he should have done something other than let Stiles walk off. Scott peered in through the broken windows but there was no sign of him or Dean. His heart was hammering, where the hell was he? “Stiles?” He shouted out again, knowing that he was unlikely to be heard over the rain. 

“Dean!” Sam called out, arriving at the jeep behind Scott, looking at the carnage in front of him with wide eyes, his wet hair plastered to his forehead. There was no answer from either Stiles or Dean.

“We need to find them.” Scott said desperately, running into the darkness of the graveyard as Sam caught up with him.

“Can’t you sniff them out or something?” He asked, constantly scanning the graveyard for any sign of movement, he knew his brother, he knew if Dean was here then his brother would make sure Sam wasn’t worried. 

“No, not in this weather.” Scott said heavily, his eyes darting to each of the headstones in front of them, desperate to see Stiles safe and sound. The others had caught up with them by now, Lydia was as white as a sheet and looked on the verge of tears. 

“We’ll find him.” Allison said, rubbing her arm reassuringly, she was shaking, although Sam wasn’t sure if it was from fear or the cold. 

“I can’t…I can’t predict his death…god…please…please don’t let him be dead.” Lydia muttered and all of them looked worried, it was obvious that Lydia was struggling with the thought of Stiles’ being dead, and that she had been the one to predict it. 

“Lydia, can you tell where they are?” Sam asked, not sure how this banshee thing worked, he didn’t have time to figure it out though, he had to think about Dean, about Stiles, he had to find them, he prayed Lydia would be able to help. 

“That’s not how it works, but, I think, they’re nearby, somewhere, they are close I know that much.” She said, trying to sound more confident than she felt, ignoring the way her fingers were trembling and she felt a scream building up in her chest. 

“Okay, you guys stay here, I’m going to go look for them. Stay by the cars.” Sam instructed, already moving deeper into the graveyard as Scott shook his head in disagreement.

“No way, I’m not staying here. I’m coming with you. You guys stay here.” He said to the rest of the pack, “We’ll bring them back, keep an eye out for whatever did this to the jeep. Watch your backs.”

 

Stiles pulled again on the ropes holding him up, he was fairly sure that this was hell, the pain he had felt earlier had built and built, every breath felt like his last, but he knew he couldn’t die here, he couldn’t let Dean die here, not when he’d brought him here. He had to warn Scott and the rest of the pack what they were up against, even if they didn’t want to speak to him, even if they all knew how worthless he was, he still had to try and protect them. 

“How are you doing over there?” Dean asked pulling against the ropes feeling them give just slightly, he had to keep working on them, he couldn’t let Stiles die, not when they’d only just met, he had to get them out.

“I’m fine.” Stiles said putting as much energy as he could into trying to break free even though he couldn’t really feel his arms any longer and his head felt like it weighed a ton. 

“Alright, well just hold on okay Stiles, we’re going to get out of this. Sam will come for us okay?” Dean tried to reassure them both, he wanted to say it was mainly for Stiles’ benefit, but, it was definitely for his own as well. He had to believe they were going to get out of this. That Sam was going to come. Stiles nodded, no energy left for words. He felt like he might actually be about to die and he couldn’t help but watch as memories resurfaced, memories of all the times he’d failed to protect his family, his friends, the times he’d succeeded, the times he’d being hurt, the times he’d hurt others, his nightmares, the fact that Derek hadn’t even looked at him as he’d climbed in to the car with Braeden and driven away. He knew that if he made it out of here he would have more nightmares, more failures, more death and fear, part of him wasn’t sure he wanted to make it out. No. He couldn’t think like that, he had to make it out of here. He had to protect the pack, even if they didn’t want his protection. He pulled again on the ropes, praying that they miraculously loosened, wincing as they cut in to his wrists.

 

Sam and Scott walked through the graveyard calling out for Dean and Stiles, shouting over the pounding rain, just about keeping their footing in the mud.

“You think they’re hurt?” Scott asked from next to him and Sam rolled his eyes.

“Of course they’re hurt, I don’t know Stiles well enough to say if he’s anything like Dean, but, if he is, then they’re in trouble. Dean is always getting into a mess.” Sam scanned the ground hurrying forward when he saw Dean’s gun by a headstone. He rushed forward and scooped it up, glancing around for any sign of his brother, no way would Dean leave his gun behind if there was any choice in the matter, “Dean! Stiles!” He called, he felt physically sick, something was seriously wrong, he could feel it in the pit of his stomach. 

“I can smell blood.” Scott said, looking like he wanted to throw up almost as much as Sam did. 

“Can you follow the scent?” Sam asked, Scott turned around, his nose leading him towards the back end of the graveyard. A figure stepped out of the shadows and Scott took an automatic step forwards, certain that they’d found Stiles or Dean.

“Stiles?” Scott called out in hope as the figure came clearly into view.

“Not quite but nice try.” Donovan grinned, blood covering his hands and Sam tensed, holding the gun tightly in his hands.

“That’s not possible, you’re dead.” Scott said his voice trembling, he’d called Stiles a murderer and yet here was Donovan, right in front of his eyes, very much alive. 

“Not quite, although Stiles gave it his best shot.” Donovan said pointing to the hole in his chest, Scott could only look at him in confusion. 

“What are you on about? How are you alive? Stiles told me he killed you. Was he lying?” Scott queried, Donovan laughed in reply, flashing his teeth and taking a step towards them.

“Oh course he wasn’t lying, he did his best, but, it just wasn’t quite good enough. Pretty much describes Stiles, doesn’t it?” Donovan laughed. “He didn’t try to kill me, not really, just stop me from eating his legs. Instead he dropped a pile of scaffolding on me and he impaled me, but, not enough to kill me, not enough to finish the job like he should have done, and then he ran away like a little bitch and I got up and walked away.” Donovan taunted, he could see the look of complete surprise on Scott’s face and he took another step closer, assessing the two men in front of him. Scott wouldn’t be a threat, it was the other one he should be cautious around, he could feel some kind of power oozing from him, he would need to use surprise in order to gain the upper hand.

Donovan attacked with no warning, using Scott’s shock as a distraction, he ignored the Alpha, instead he pounced on the older man, slamming him down into the ground with such force that Sam felt like he couldn’t breathe. Scott reacted quickly, grabbing Donovan from behind and pulling him off Sam, he wasn’t prepared as Donovan whirled on him, knocking him to the ground, pinning him down in to the mud and punching him over and over.

 

Stiles fell to the ground as soon as the rope snapped, he let out a cry of pain as the movement sent waves of agony through his body. He was finally free, but he wasn’t sure he had the energy to get back to his feet.

“Stiles? You okay?” Dean called out, still pulling uselessly on his ropes. Stiles glanced at him, trying to get his vision to focus, to stop the cave from spinning uncomfortably, he forced himself to get to his feet, trying not to just sit there and cry. He had to keep going for Dean, for Sam, for Scott, for the pack, for his dad, he had to keep going. He stumbled over to the side of the cave and managed to get the rope keeping Dean upright undone. Dean collapsed just as ungracefully as Stiles, he was sure his ankle was broken at the least, he tried to get his feet under him but couldn’t stand, “Stiles, I’m going to need your help getting out of here.” He looked across at Stiles, he was white as a sheet, covered in blood and bruises, Dean was sure he probably looked just as bad, but, he couldn’t walk, not on his ankle being the way it was.

“Okay.” Stiles said, pulling on all his reserves of energy. He had to do this. He couldn’t fail on this. He pulled Dean to his feet, taking some of his weight as they staggered out of the cave, trying his hardest to keep on his feet. He had to keep going. He just kept telling himself to be strong, he had to keep going for Scott. They stumbled out into the rain, the wind nearly knocking them off their feet. 

“You hear that?” Dean asked after a moment, Stiles looked at him blankly, he had no energy left, he just wanted to sleep, just for a little while. Dean was looking across the graveyard, Stiles forced his eyes to follow, there was somebody there, somebody shouting, fighting. They took another step closer, Stiles practically dragging Dean now, every step getting harder and harder. As they got closer it became obvious what was happening, Sam and Scott were fighting with Donovan, and Donovan was winning.

 

Scott landed hard on the ground again, every time he thought that he had put Donovan down he had somehow managed to get back up, both Scott and Sam felt unsteady on their feet, slipping in the mud, their various injuries already throbbing, although Scott knew that his would heal if given a bit of time. As it was, he wasn’t sure he was going to have that time, he found that he didn’t have the energy to get to his feet anymore, he just felt so drained. Donovan was punching him repeatedly in the face and he couldn’t seem to even find the will to raise his arms to protect himself. This was his fault, Stiles was probably dead and it was his fault, he’d pushed him away, and he’d died thinking that Scott hated him. Theo had lied to him, he could see it now, Scott couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid. He deserved this, he deserved to die. 

 

As soon as Stiles saw Scott on the ground, not even fighting back anymore, he rushed forward, letting go of Dean as he went, he didn’t mean to, but, all he could see was Donovan beating Scott to death, he couldn’t watch it happen, he had to try and stop it. He rushed forward as best he could, stumbling and slipping in the mud, certain that he was going to fail, that he wasn’t going to be quick enough, he launched himself at Donovan, letting out a roar of rage and pain as he connected with him, knocking him away from Scott. 

Stiles knew he was done now, he had nothing left, he just hoped it had been enough to save Scott, to not let him down one last time. They went down hard in a tangle of limbs and Donovan kicked out landing a solid blow to Stiles’ stomach. He lost the ability to breathe, he knew this was it, he knew he was dying, there was nothing left for him to give. He was done. He closed his eyes, his mind filled with the image of Derek’s face, of his smile, before everything went black. 

 

Dean saw Sam starting to get to his feet and screamed as loud as he could, he felt so helpless, he was crawling as fast as he could, but he couldn’t get there, he knew he wouldn’t get there in time. Stiles went down hard and he wasn’t moving and Dean was terrified. 

“Wendigo!” Dean screamed as loud as he could, hoping that Sam understood. Donovan got back to his feet, Stiles lay motionless on the floor and Scott was moving towards him, almost crawling through the mud as he clutched as his ribs in pain. 

Sam suddenly turned and ran in the opposite direction, running back towards the cars, in confused Donovan, but, he’d got the target he wanted at his feet, whoever the other man was, he obviously wasn’t any kind of threat if he’d turned and run, instead, he grinned, staying where he was after deciding that it would be more fun to taunt Scott. He crouched down next to Stiles, Dean had managed to crawl his way to the small clearing now, his leg was throbbing, his head spinning, but he had to know, he had to know Stiles was okay. Donovan slapped the side of Stiles’ face lightly but there was no reaction. 

“Too bad.” He reached down and seemed to feel for a pulse, “That’s definitely too bad, I was hoping to have more fun with him before he died.” Dean felt the breath leave his body, no, no, it couldn’t be true, he couldn’t lose Stiles when he’d only just found him. Not him. Not him, please.

“No!” Scott screamed out, sounding like his heart was breaking as he tried to move towards Stiles and Donovan kicked him backwards.

“No!” Dean found himself whispering in disbelief, he couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be. Donovan was laughing at their pain, but Scott’s pain was quickly turning to rage. He gathered all the strength he had left, launching himself at Donovan, determined to keep him away from Stiles. He fought with everything he had, losing control of his wolf as he turned and fought with Donovan. Dean crawled to Stiles, grabbing hold of his cold, wet skin as soon as he could, already checking for a pulse.

 

Sam grabbed the flares from the boot of the impala and ran as fast as he could back towards where he’d left Scott and Donovan, not caring that the others were racing after him. All he could think about was killing the wendigo and saving his brother and cousin, he stilled for a moment when he saw that Dean was cradling Stiles motionless body, Scott was roaring with such pain in his voice that Sam couldn’t dare to think what it meant. He couldn’t think about it, not yet, not now. 

He pulled the cover off the flare and slammed it into the hole in Donovan’s body, pulling Scott away at the same time. Donovan stared at him for a brief second, as if unable to believe what had just happened, before the flare caught and he lit up the graveyard as he burned, his scream echoing through the air. Scott pulled away from Sam, going back to Stiles, Lydia was already kneeling on the ground next to him, tears spilling down her cheeks. 

“Wake up Stiles.” She was begging as Malia crouched next to her, running her fingers through Stiles’ hair, looking almost feral. 

Scott stared at the broken body in front of him, the paleness of his skin where it wasn’t black and blue, the body of his brother, his best friend, and he’d failed him. He’d called Stiles a murderer, he’d led him to this, Stiles was dead and it was all his fault, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t focus, all he could think was that Stiles was dead and it was his fault.

“I can hear his heart beating.” Liam said quickly kneeling down next to Stiles, “We need to get him to the hospital.” 

There was a collective sigh of relief, he was still alive for the time being. Erica and Isaac picked Stiles up gently, terrified of causing any further damage, Sam grabbed hold of Dean who was glaring at Donovan’s body with hatred in his eyes. 

“Come on.” Sam urged helping him to the car, worried that Dean could barely put any weight through his leg, he loaded Dean into the front seat, Isaac and Erica slid Stiles into the back seat, Sam jumped into the driver’s seat, glancing worriedly at his brother who had yet to say a word. Scott scooted into the back seat next to Stiles as everyone else jumped in to their own vehicles and then they were racing towards the hospital. Scott pulled out his phone and called ahead to his mom.

“Mom, it’s Stiles.” Scott said, his voice breaking, “He’s hurt. We’re coming to you.”

“How badly?” They heard her voice echoing through the car, it was obvious that she was worried, but, at least trying to maintain her professionality.

“It’s bad mom.” Scott said and Melissa sounded like she was close to tears. 

“Okay, well, you get here okay? I’ll be waiting right here.” Scott nodded, not seeming to realize that she couldn’t see him. “Scott?” 

“Yeah mom, we’ll be with you soon.” He hung up the phone, glancing down again at Stiles, “Just hold on Stiles. Please, just hold on.” 

Dean hadn’t spoken a word to them yet and Sam was worried, it wasn’t like his brother to be so quiet. He couldn’t take his eyes off the road though, the weather was still bad, the roads wet and Sam was scared that if he even glanced at his brother he’d drive them off the road and Stiles would die before they made it to the hospital. 

“You doing okay Dean?” 

“Fine.” He said through gritted teeth, he didn’t sound like he was in pain, more like he was angry beyond belief. 

Sam raced into the car park as fast as he could, surprised to see that there was already a cluster of doctors outside the door waiting with a stretcher. He pulled up right next to them and then there was a rush of action as they unloaded Stiles from the car. Sam let out a sigh, he’d got them here, now it was up to the doctors to save Stiles. 

“Stiles!” Sam heard someone screaming, he turned and saw the Sheriff racing towards them. “Stiles!” He said running towards his son, a doctor stopped him from getting any closer. It was obvious the second that he actually saw Stiles, all fight left him, his legs didn’t seem to want to hold him up; his son looked dead. “No!” He howled, tears spilling down his face. “No, Stiles, Stiles!”

 

They rushed Stiles into the hospital, the doctors chattering among themselves, his vital signs, his obvious injuries, the injuries they had to deal with first if they wanted to keep him alive. Sam helped Dean out of the car and they hobbled towards the front desk, Dean leaving a trail of blood behind him, his ankle was broken, his head was pounding, he definitely had a concussion, but he was conscious, which was more than Stiles. 

Dean was raging, doing his best to keep himself together but unable to look at anything other than Scott, that kid, the one that was looking so shell shocked stood next to the Sheriff, that kid that claimed to be Stiles’ best friend, he hadn’t even given Stiles a chance to explain, he’d called him a murderer, and if Stiles died now, if he didn’t pull through, Dean knew that what Scott thought was more important than anything he could say, which meant that Stiles would die thinking that Scott thought he was a murderer. He was beyond pissed at the kid. He couldn’t lose Stiles, not when they’d just found him, and he deserved so much better than Scott as a friend. 

Dean got seen to reasonably quickly, the doctors had plastered up his broken ankle, told him to rest, take it easy. He had a couple of fractured ribs and the broken ankle but otherwise nothing too serious, blood loss and bumps and scrapes, he was advised that he had to take it easy for a few weeks. Dean had listened to the advice and then hobbled out of his room on his crutches to sit in the waiting room with the others. He had to be there when the doctors came back, he had to know that Stiles was still alive. He’d let Stiles down, he was supposed to protect him like he protected Sam. He was a failure and Stiles had got hurt because of him. He felt on edge, unable to sit still despite all the aches in his body. If Stiles died, it was on him. Even if he didn’t, it was still Dean’s fault. He could be as pissed as he liked at Scott but in the end this was all on him. 

“Mom.” Scott said suddenly rising from his seat as one of the nurses approached them. 

“What’s going on Melissa? Is he okay? Is my son okay?” Noah asked, his voice breaking with fear.

“He’s out of surgery.” She replied, taking in Dean’s battered appearance before turning back to Noah. “He’s still in critical condition, but he made it through the surgery. He’s a fighter.” 

They sank back into their seats in relief, he was still alive. Stiles would make it through this, he had to. 

“What happened?” Noah said finally looking to Scott and then Sam and Dean.

“I don’t know. We argued. I wasn’t there.” Scott said, looking to the floor, his eyes filled with guilt.

“What? What the hell could you argue about that you wouldn’t go out there with him?” The Sheriff demanded.

“I thought he was coming to see you, I didn’t think he’d go out there by himself.” Scott said pitifully and Noah sighed heavily.

“You know this is Stiles we are on about here?” Noah queried as Scott nodded.

“Yeah.” Scott replied, “I should have known. I should have stopped him. I shouldn’t have argued with him.” Dean couldn’t hold his tongue any longer, he was so angry, there was no way in hell he wasn’t going to tell Scott exactly what he thought of him.

“It wasn’t really an argument though was it, you’d already made up your mind, you didn’t even let him talk.” Dean snarled angrily, Scott looked at him, seeing the rage in Dean’s eyes, he looked down at the floor again, the guilt overwhelming him. 

“I know that. I won’t ever forgive myself for that. I should have listened.” Scott admitted. 

“Would somebody please explain to me what the hell happened and why the hell my son nearly died?” Noah said pacing across the hall in his agitation. 

“Theo told me that Stiles killed Donovan, that he bashed his head in with his spanner, that it wasn’t self-defense, that it was cold blooded. He didn’t kill him. He murdered him. I believed him, I shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t have doubted Stiles, but it made sense, and why would Theo lie to me?” Scott said eventually. The Sheriff looked at him like he’d lost his mind. 

“My son is not a murderer.” He said angrily, keeping his voice low to ensure that nobody overheard them. 

“I know he’s not. Donovan was the one attacking people. He was at the graveyard. He attacked Stiles and Dean.” Scott said sadly. Noah glanced at Dean now as if expecting him to pick up the story. Dean rubbed his eyes, god his head hurt, maybe going to sleep wouldn’t have been such a bad idea. 

“He attacked us, I should have talked Stiles out of going, but I thought it was just a ghost, I thought it would be an easy job, and he was so insistent that we go, so desperate to stop anyone else getting hurt.” Dean felt his throat closing up, he was trying so hard to hold back the tears, “I’m so sorry, I failed him. I couldn’t protect him from Donovan.” The tears were spilling down his cheeks now, unable to stop them, Sam put an arm around his shoulders, offering whatever comfort he could to his brother. 

“It’s not your fault.” Sam said, but he knew Dean would blame himself anyway. 

“I’m sorry.” Dean muttered again, but this time it was the Sheriff that bent down in front of Dean.

“Listen to Sam, this isn’t your fault. Stiles seems to be a beacon for supernatural crap. I should have been there to protect him.” Noah said quietly, Dean nodded but it was obvious that he didn’t believe the older man, “Dean, this is not your fault. Stiles is going to be okay. He’s going to be fine. You don’t have anything to blame yourself for. Other than keeping my son alive. You were there to protect him, the way the rest of the pack should have been.”

“I know, I should have been there, we all should have been.” Scott added. “I should have listened to him, let him tell me what happened.” 

“We would have been there if you’d not made a decision to kick him out of the pack without talking to any of us.” Malia muttered murderously and Scott flushed guiltily as the rest of the pack all nodded in agreement. 

He told me. He can tell you himself when he wakes up, if he wants to, but it was self-defense, there was no doubt in my mind it was self-defense. And in the end, he didn’t kill him anyway. Sam finished the job.” Dean said sounding proud of both Stiles and Sam.

“So Donovan’s dead?” Noah asked. “For real this time?” 

“Without a doubt. If you want to arrest me for murder then that’s fine. But I had to kill him, if I didn’t, we would all be dead right now.” Sam said. 

“I’ve no intention of arresting my nephew.” Noah said, shaking his head slightly, “All that matters is that Stiles is alive and that bastard is dead, that he’ll never be a threat to my son again.” He paused, “What about Theo?” 

“He lied to me. I don’t know why, and I don’t know where he is now. But, I’ll find him. I’ll make him pay for this.” Scott said, his eyes flashing red.

“Empty words. You believed that liar over your best friend.” Dean snapped and Scott stared at him, “Prove it. Prove Stiles matters more to you.” He snarled dangerously and Scott nodded firmly. 

“I will. I swear to you.” Scott said solemnly. 

The pack all settled in the waiting room, none of them leaving until they knew what was happening with Stiles, Cora had pulled her phone out after a little while, deciding that Derek needed to know about this, she cursed when she got the standard message that his mailbox was full and to call back later, didn’t he ever check his voicemail!? She hadn’t even been able to leave him a message for the past month. She knew he’d want to know about this, she knew he cared about Stiles, it was the reason Derek had left, to go after the desert wolf, to stop her from ever threatening Stiles again. She hung up the call, sliding the phone back in to her pocket and resting her head against the wall behind her to wait, only opening her eyes when Melissa reappeared almost two hours later.

“We’ve got him settled in a room, he’s still out of it, but you can go see him.” She said to them quietly. Sam, Dean, Scott and Noah followed her down the hallway and to Stiles, he lay motionless in the bed, hooked up to too many machines, he looked worse than he did when he arrived, but Dean felt relief listening to the steady beat of his heart, thankful that he could at least hear it now. They sat down in silence next to the bed, waiting for Stiles to wake up, Dean wasn’t sure how long they sat there, it must have been hours, suddenly there was a groan from the bed, Stiles was finally regaining consciousness. 

“Urgh.” He groaned, struggling to open his eyes as the pain started to overwhelm him, he looked around the room, at the four worried faces looking at him. 

“Stiles? Can you hear me?” His dad asked. 

“Dad.” Stiles mumbled, trying not to wince when his dad gripped tight onto his hand, looking dangerously close to tears. 

“You’re okay Stiles. You’re going to be fine.” He said unable to stop the relief that was washing over him. 

It was several days later when Stiles was well enough to leave the hospital, he arrived home to find his jeep sat on the drive next to the impala. His dad came around to help him out of the car and he smiled gratefully at the assistance, he was still very sore, still recovering from the four broken ribs, the broken arm, the fractured jaw and skull as well as all the other little cuts and bruises, but he was going to live and that was what mattered. Scott appeared just as they were heading towards the door, he was alone, the rest of their pack keeping their distance for the time being.

“Hey man, how are you feeling?” They were doing okay, things still weren’t quite right between them, but they were definitely on the mend. Stiles wasn’t one hundred percent sure that he’d be able to forgive Scott for doubting him, but, in fairness, he’d believed he was a murderer too, so, he couldn’t exactly blame him. It was easier now that Theo was gone, Stiles wasn’t sure where and he didn’t care, all that mattered was that Theo was gone, no longer a threat to the pack. He wished Derek was here, wished that he could talk to the older man, but, he guessed Derek had made his choice and it wasn’t Stiles or Beacon Hills. He couldn’t blame him. 

“I’m good.” Stiles said as they made their way slowly into the house. Sam and Dean were sat around the table which was filled with various boxes, “What’s all this?” Stiles said as he came in, catching his father grinning out of the corner of his eye. 

“Well, it’s for when you’re feeling up to it.” Sam said, Stiles looked to them in confusion. 

“We did say we were going to sort your jeep out, didn’t we? And we’re going to stick around for a little while, just until we get this dread doctor crap sorted out. I figured when you’re better we can fix it up together.” Dean said smiling while Stiles could only look at them all in shock. 

“Are you serious?” He said in surprise, he couldn’t imagine Sam and Dean staying in any place for any period of time. 

“Of course we are. That is, if you want us to stick around?” Sam offered. 

“Of course I do.” He said grinning, unable to believe how lucky he felt to gain two new members to his family. Yeah, okay, he wished that he didn’t still have nightmares, and he wished that he didn’t feel like he was a complete and utter failure, that he’d let everyone down, most of all he wished he’d never left Derek that stupid voicemail, he wondered if maybe by confessing his love to the man it had only encouraged him to stay away. He swore to himself that if Derek ever returned, he would never admit to his feelings. Instead, he would take comfort in the new family he had gained, surround himself with his family, his pack, and forget Derek Hale ever meant anything to him.


	2. Fight Club

One month after the events of ‘A hunt in Beacon Hills’

“Cora,” Derek pulled her aside, saw the rest of the pack gathered together not far away, but far enough that they wouldn’t hear their conversation, it was going to be one of the hardest things he had to do, but, it was the only choice he had, “Look, don’t tell the others, but, I’m leaving.” 

“What? Why?” Cora asked looked horrified. 

“Not permanently. I’ll be coming home, but I have to track down the desert wolf, I have to make sure she doesn’t have the chance to hurt anyone again.” Derek explained. 

“You mean she doesn’t have the chance to hurt Stiles again.” Cora muttered and Derek shrugged. 

“Yeah, yeah I guess, but, look, you can’t tell him that, can’t tell any of them that. I don’t want them worrying about me. Just, make them think I’m running off with Braeden, okay?” Derek asked. 

“Derek…” She sighed heavily. 

“Please Cora. I need to keep him safe.”

“He’ll be safer if you’re with us.” 

“I’m going to come back, just as soon as she’s dead.” Derek confirmed, Cora looked devastated but nodded firmly, pulling Derek in to a tight hug before finaly stepping away and giving him a grin. 

“Best get going then big bro.” She smiled and Derek felt his chest throb painfully before everything vanished from his sight. 

Derek gasped upright, surprised to find himself awake and, perhaps more importantly, back in human form. He’d left Braeden behind a few days after they’d left the desert, it wasn’t like he disliked her, but, he’d only started dating her because she’d been there, Stiles was too young for him and could do so much better than him and dating Braeden he’d hoped would keep his mind off Stiles, but, he’d failed miserably, and he knew she knew it too. 

He’d spent the past three and a half months running around as a wolf, determined to eliminate the threat to Stiles and to the rest of his pack. He knew that if he let up for even a second then he’d lose her and he also knew she’d go after Stiles again to get to Malia. He wouldn’t let that happen. 

Last night he’d finally found his target. Last night he’d finally made sure that she would never be a threat to Stiles or his pack or anyone else ever again. He guessed that was probably why he’d finally collapsed into an exhausted sleep and woken up as a human for the firt time in so long. 

He knew it was time to go home now, reunite with his family, his pack, he shifted back in to a wolf and headed out of the woods, finally locating a house with some washing drying outside, he stole a few items, getting dressed felt odd, but, he managed it. He wandered in to the nearest town, managing to borrow a few dollars off a woman who saw the state of him and obviously felt sorry for him. Derek looked at the money in his hand and decided he best tell the pack of his plans, but, considered he should probably check his voicemails first, make sure that they were all still in Beacon Hills and hadn’t decided to move out of town, he couldn’t imagine it, but, you never knew. 

The first several messages were from Cora, telling him that the pack all thought he was off enjoying himself with Braeden, that she missed him, if there was any kind of timescale on this thing. There was a couple of voicemails from different companies asking if he wanted to take out insurance or if he wanted double glazing, there was even a message in there from Peter asking him to call him back when he got a moment because there was something wrong with some new kid called Theo that had showed up but Peter couldn’t put his finger on it. Derek shook his head in bemusement, pressing the button to move on to the next message. 

“Derek…” Stiles’ voice came over the speaker and Derek froze, he sounded scared, upset, terrified, “Derek, I know, I know you had to get out of here…I know Beacon Hills brought you nothing but bad, and I’m sorry, I can’t believe I’m asking this of you, not when you’ve got out…But, god, Derek…” Stiles’ voice cracked and Derek felt his heart thudding rapidly, something was wrong, something was so wrong, “I need you. I…something’s happened…I’ve done something…something awful…and I need…I need” Stiles let out a sob and Derek’s mind was racing, he could barely think straight, he needed to get home, he needed to get to Stiles, “God, Der…you…I need you Derek, I need you to come home, please. Please, I love…I love you Derek and I just, I need you to…” The message cut off and Derek couldn’t even be happy that Stiles had said he loved him because there was just something so wrong with that entire message. He hung up the phone, using the last of his change to call Stiles’ mobile, cursing when it went straight to voicemail. 

“Stiles, it’s me, I’m coming. I’m sorry I’m late, like, two months late, but, I’m coming home, okay? I’m coming home. I’ll be there. I’m so sorry, I’m so, so, sorry, but, I’m coming back, I’ll be there in a couple of days. I love you Stiles. I’m so sorry I left, I’m on my way. I love you.” He hung up the phone, running out of the telephone booth, racing towards the woods, letting his instincts lead him home as he shifted back to his wolf and began to run like his life depended on it. If he’d tracked the desert wolf relentlessly it was nothing compared to this, something had happened, something bad had happened and Stiles needed him and he wasn’t there. He should have been there. He forced himself to go faster, knowing he wouldn’t be able to rest until he saw Stiles, alive and well, with his own two eyes. 

 

“Hey, Jacks, I’m going to have to go, my dad is home.” Stiles said, looking at Jackson on the screen. If anyone had asked him a few years ago if he’d be friends with Jackson Whittemore, he would have laughed in their faces, but, here they were. 

“Sure thing.” Jackson replied, “So, you’ll call me when whatever it is is over?” He asked. 

“Definitely. That’s if Scott let’s me anywhere near it. He’s keeping me at a distance at the moment, not that I blame him, but, it’s weird, that I can be a pack member and still feel so…I don’t know, alone I guess.” Stiles admitted, finding it easier to talk to Jackson when he was a million miles away than it was when he was right here. 

“That’s not how it should be Stiles. You know, if you’re that lonely, I’m sure my new Alpha would be interested in meeting you. You could come stay with me for a few weeks? Meet him?” Jackson offered. 

“I best not. I don’t want to destroy whatever relationship I’ve got left with Scott. If he finds out I’m going visiting another Alpha, he’ll never speak to me again.” Stiles said. 

“And that’d be a bad thing?” Jackson scoffed. 

“He’s still my best friend. Even if maybe I’m not his anymore.” Stiles said a little sadly. 

“Don’t be stupid. McCall wouldn’t know what to do without you.” He said and Stiles laughed in derision. 

“Yeah. Sure.” He said sarcastically, “Anyway, I’ve really got to go, I’ll talk to you in a few weeks or whenever.” 

“Alright. Be careful.” 

“Worried about me Jacks?” Stiles teased and Jackson rolled his eyes before disconnecting the call. 

 

Noah didn’t mean to slam his plate down quite so hard onto the sideboard, “I’m listening!” He shouted back, anger colouring his voice. “I’ve been listening!” He shouted again, now scraping his left over breakfast back onto his plate after splattering it all over the counter. 

“You just don’t believe me.” Stiles said from behind him. 

Their argument from years before was coming back to haunt him, what had Stiles said at the time? ‘mom would have believed me’ his words echoed in Noah ears as if Stiles had only just spoken them. When he turned around from the sink he glimpsed the hurt on Stiles face, the same shock on his face as years before, he eyes going comically wide, his mouth open and unable to process that his dad didn’t believe him yet again. Noah was about to apologize, say that he was sorry, he didn’t mean to shout, he just didn’t want it to be true, but before he could say any of it Stiles turned away from him and left through the front door, slamming it behind him. 

Noah sunk into his chair at the kitchen table, scrubbed his hand across his face, weariness washing over him. He was so tired, and there was so much going on in Beacon Hills at the moment. Still, he sighed, he shouldn’t have just dismissed Stiles out of hand like that. Stiles was usually right about these things, he shuddered when he thought of all the times Stiles had been right over the years, all of the times he’d just tuned him out, ignored him, shouted out him, told him he was wrong, only to find out every time that Stiles was right. This newest issue would probably turn out to be right too, Noah just didn’t want to admit it, he couldn’t handle it on top of everything else. He finished off his cup of luke warm coffee, grabbed his car keys and headed to the station. 

It was a gloomy day, the sky overcast, one of those days where you thought it was never going to get properly light, there were spatterings of rain across the town and Noah drove in silence processing everything Stiles had said, it made sense, but he didn’t want it to make sense. He pulled up outside the station, slamming his hand hard into the steering wheel, “Damn it.” He cursed, shaking his head in despair. He got out of his car, feeling every one of his years, walking into the office knowing that it was going to be a long day. He looked at the pile of files on his desk, so many, too many, too many missing. He thanked Deputy Miller as she handed him another cup of coffee.

“You look like you need it.” She muttered, taking in his weary expression, Noah nodded in acknowledgement.

“That obvious, huh?” He asked and Miller nodded, “Do we have any new leads?” He asked looking at the files again, Deputy Miller followed his lead, taking a seat opposite the Sheriff, she shook her head sadly, a few blonde tendrils coming loose from where she had tied it up quickly earlier on. Noah sighed again, he wished she hadn’t said that, wished she’d had good news, but it wasn’t the kids fault, this one was just too big, and Noah had a sinking feeling that it was only going to get bigger before the end. God, he hoped there was an end to this, there had to be an end to it, dear God let there be an end to it he prayed. He looked at the defeated expression on Miller’s face, she was taking this one too personally, but hell, so was he.

“Why don’t you get off home Claire? I’ll let you know if we get any further developments.” Noah offered, she’d been practically living here the past week, only going home to grab the occassional sleep and shower, getting back to the station as quickly as she could to carry on the case. She was a nice looking kid, Noah thought, innocent looking except for her big blue eyes, they loked haunted. She was much too young to have that look in her eyes. She’d only come to Beacon Hills a month ago and she’d already been such an asset to the team, but she looked like she was wearing herself out, she looked exhausted. 

“I’m fine Sir.” She replied respectfully, “I need to help with this, you know how much I need to solve this.” Noah nodded, he did understand, the pit of dread in his stomach told him how much he understood, how personal this had become for all of them. 

“Okay, well, then I guess, you need to add two more names to the list.” He said in defeat, admitting it made it true, but denying it wouldn’t solve anything either. Miller looked up from the files that were currently resting on her knees,

“Who?” She asked, her voice only shaking slightly. Noah took a deep breath before replying, knowing that as soon as he said it that would be it, it would make it true. 

“My nephews.” He paused, “Dean and Sam Winchester.”

 

Stiles slammed the door shut quickly behind him, breathing heavily. He had to get out of there before he’d said something he’d regret. He knew that his dad was trying to be rational, just because Sam and Dean hadn’t been in touch in a couple of days didn’t mean they were missing. But Stiles knew that wasn’t the case. Ever since he’d found out he had two amazing kick ass cousins he’d been in touch with them almost constantly. They’d stayed with him for a while after the whole Donovan thing, helped him fix his jeep up. They’d left a few weeks after Stiles got out of the hospital – once the dread doctors and Theo were taken care of properly, it had been a bit of a shock to find out that Theo had been trying to separate Stiles from the pack with the intention of somehow bringing back the Nogitsune and turning Stiles back into the void version of himself. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to thank Dean and Sam enough for standing protectively in front of him, as if they expected to Theo to lunge for him. Thankfully Theo was that stupid and he charged at Dean who shot him clean between the eyes and Theo dropped to the ground dead. Scott had tried to argue that they shouldn’t kill anyone, Dean had argued that it was a necessity to protect Stiles and that if he had a problem with it, Dean had plenty of spare bullets. Scott had backed down and nobody had said anything else. 

It wasn’t like Stiles expected the pack to instantly trust Sam and Dean, or the other way around, but, they were all trying and that meant a lot to Stiles. 

Sam and Dean had a hunt in the next state, they’d said they’d come back and visit as soon as they were done, but they made sure that they always called Stiles, at least once a day, if not then every other day, just to let him know how they were getting on with the search for their dad. Stiles had spoken to Dean a couple of days ago, he’d told him how they’d found their dad, he was alive, he was just keeping his distance because he didn’t want the demon to go after them. Stiles had thought it sounded like bullshit, what kind of father left his kids like that? Knowing that they were throwing themselves into danger all the time? Okay so maybe he ran around with werewolves and his dad wasn’t there all the time, but that was different, he had a whole pack around him, Sam and Dean? Well, they only had each other.

Stiles threw his bag into his jeep and reversed quickly off the drive before his dad could come out, he didn’t want to talk to him right now. He could understand his dad was having a hard time at the moment, over twenty people going missing in the last three weeks and no sign of any bodies or any of them turning up alive a of yet. Of course that was a big deal, but why didn’t he believe him when Stiles said that Sam and Dean were missing too? 

Dean had sounded calm on the phone, like some of the tension had eased out of him, Stiles and him had joked around for a while, Sam shouting out his input from the background. Dean had told him about their latest hunt with creatures called Daeva’s, Stiles shuddered, they sounded awful. Dean had said that they’d managed to get away with only a few cuts, Stiles grimaced, he knew what Dean was like and a few cuts usually meant just short of having to amputate a limb. Dean had wanted to know how his dad was going on with the missing people case and Stiles had filled him in as quickly as he could.

“Not well, there’s no leads, no bodies, I’ve asked the pack to see if they can track any of them but they can’t.” Stiles said heavily, explaining that the only lead he had been able to find was a link to some locked website that you needed a password to access, he’d passed it across to his dad and he currently had people trying to break the password, but nothing had come from it yet.

“You want a hand?” Sam shouted out in the background, Stiles shrugged, then realized that they wouldn’t be able to see him.

“I’m sure we can figure it out, you sound like you’ve got a lot going on.” He said, although it would be so good to see his cousins again. Okay, they’d only been gone a matter of weeks, but, knowing he had more family, he wanted to spend time with them, if only to try and distract himself from the almost overwhelming loneliness he felt the rest of the time. Derek was gone and although Stiles was back in the pack, he wasn’t sure they wanted him there, that they didn’t sometimes think he was still a murderer, that he was not worthy of being pack. He tried to dismiss those thoughts, but, it didn’t stop them whispering to him in the middle of the night when his nightmares were worst.

“It’s cool.” Dean said, forgetting instantly about any other possible hunts they had lined up, it was obvious Stiles needed them, “We’re not far away, we can be there in a day or two, we can come look it over, see if we can spot something you don’t.” Stiles grinned, feeling relief that finally there was help coming.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to?” Stiles asked, unable to keep the relief and emotion from his voice, Dean huffed down the phone.

“Alright, don’t go all chick flick on me, I’ve got enough of that with Sammy.” Dean teased lightly and Stiles laughed.

“Fine with me, so you don’t want me to record Dr Sexy MD for you?” He could practically feel Dean glaring down the phone at him. 

“You best had do, if you don’t then no deal.” Dean said quietly, but obviously not quietly enough to stop Sam from hearing him, as Stiles could hear him howling with laughter in the background. “Alright kid, we’ll see you in a couple of days.” Stiles ended the call, a grin on his face, they would figure this out together. 

Except that was four days ago and there was still no sign of them and he couldn’t get hold of them. He knew something was wrong.

He pulled up outsides Scott’s house, still trying to shake the feeling of rejection from his father. He let himself in and strolled into the kitchen, “Scott?” He called out, Scott appeared with Liam trailing behind him, Stiles tried not to think that Liam looked like a lost puppy, but that’s exactly how it appeared. 

“Hey.” Scott said in greeting, he looked agitated, like there was something else on his mind. 

“You okay?” Stiles asked when he already knew that he wasn’t. 

“I’m fine, totally fine.” Scott replied, he never had been a good liar and definitely not to Stiles.

“Okay, well that’s good, I need to talk to you about something important…” Stiles started, stopping when he noticed Scott glance at Liam.

“Look, Stiles, we’ve got to go, we’ve got plans to go do some stuff.” Scott said suddenly, Stiles looked at the confusion on Liam’s face.

“Really? What kind of plans?” He knew Scott was lying to him, it kind of felt nice to watch him squirm.

“Well, you know, erm, stuff.” Scott said, lying was really not his forte, Liam obviously decided to help the Alpha out of this situation and cleared his throat.

“We’re meeting some of the pack at the mall, we said we’d hang out today.” Liam explained and Stiles felt his heart start to beat faster.

“Oh, right, cool, you want me to drive?” Stiles asked already knowing what the answer would be.

“No, it’s fine, it’s just kind of going to be a few of us really, there’s no need for you to come.” Scott said, feeling like the worst friend in the world after seeing the look on Stiles’ face.

“Oh.” He said simply, “Well, yeah, sure, that’s fine.” Suddenly not wanting to trouble Scott with Dean and Sam’s disappearance, he obviously had other things on his mind. “I’m not stupid you know.” He found himself saying, never planning on the words leaving his mouth. “I know you guys aren’t going to the mall. I know it’s some pack thing. I just don’t get why you don’t trust me with it?” He asked finally looking at Scott’s stricken face. 

“Stiles…” Scott began listening to the way Stiles heart was pounding in his chest, “Look, it’s just…” He paused, how could he say this without hurting Stiles? “Look, we’re dealing with something at the moment, and I don’t want you to get hurt, or for anyone else to take their eyes off the ball looking out for you.” 

Stiles felt like he’d been punched in the gut, he could argue with Scott all day about him getting hurt, that it wasn’t a big deal; that he always picked himself up and got on with it. But he couldn’t risk anyone else, he couldn’t risk anyone else getting hurt because of him, and Scott knew that. He knew how guilty Stiles would feel if anyone got hurt because of him. Stiles nodded, blinking rapidly trying to try to stop his eyes feeling with tears, stop his throat from constricting tightly.

“Sure. Yeah, I get it.” He nodded unable to look Scott in the eyes, he turned away from him and left the house, jumping quickly into his jeep and driving away even though he could hear Scott calling after him.

 

Scott had despised himself the second that the words left his mouth, he knew how they would sound to Stiles, that despite the fact it was over a year ago, Allison had nearly died because of the Nogitsune, and she’d been one of the lucky ones, plenty of other people had died because of that demon. He also knew that Stiles still felt guilt over that, despite the fact it wasn’t him, that thing still wore his face, and then Donovan, okay so Stiles hadn’t killed him, but he thought he had. Stiles carried around so much guilt, for things that just weren’t his fault. Scott didn’t want to use that, didn’t want to make Stiles feel anymore guilty, but he had to protect him, and Stiles didn’t seem to be very good at protecting himself. He was always throwing himself into dangerous situations because Scott was there, or Malia, or Liam, or Erica, or Lydia, or anyone actually, they didn’t even need to be in the pack, if Stiles saw danger and someone about to get hurt, he’d throw himself in it’s path, Scott thought. Stiles would protect anyone he thought needed it, even at his own expense, and Scott couldn’t deal with that anymore, he couldn’t watch his friend get hurt time and time again and not be able to do anything other than take a little bit of his pain away. Stiles didn’t heal like them, or run as fast as them, he wasn’t as strong as them or powerful. He was human.

Still, he wasn’t prepared for the look on Stiles’ face, wasn’t prepared to feel like the crappiest friend in the world knowing that he’d put that look there. Even knowing that he was doing it for Stiles own good; he still hated himself in that moment. 

“Stiles, wait.” He called as Stiles practically ran out of the door, he got outside in time to see the jeep tearing off down the street, he sighed heavily, holding his head in his hands, how could he have said that? He was just trying to protect Stiles, how did he end up feeling like a piece of shit? Liam cleared his throat behind him.

“I know this isn’t a good time Scott, but we’ve still got to deal with…” Liam trailed off but Scott knew what he was referring to, the other pack of wolves that seemed intent on moving into Beacon Hills, the other pack of wolves who definitely weren’t able to control themselves, or maybe they could and just chose not to. Scott wasn’t sure what they had planned yet, but he knew it only spelled trouble for him and his pack.

“Come on,” Scott said waving to Liam, “We best get going, the rest of the pack will be waiting for us.” 

 

Stiles wasn’t sure where he was driving to, he knew he just had to get out of there, he had driven his jeep out of town and kept driving. There were so many thoughts racing through his head, Sam and Dean, where the hell were they? Were they okay? His dad’s face as he yelled at him that morning, once again not listening to him. Scott, not even wanting him around for fear of him causing someone to get hurt. Derek, running away and never bothering to call him back to even check he was okay. All the times he’d let people down by lying to them, or not being there for them, or causing them to get hurt. 

“Argh!” Stiles shouted out hitting the steering wheel with his fist repeatedly, swiping at the tears in his eyes. He felt so useless, so weak. 

He thought back to the way that the pack had been treating him recently, how things were still sort of tense with Malia, because he was her anchor, but they were both hurting and so it made it hard to be around each other. He thought about how Lydia had been funny with him recently, the times she’d hung up on him when he called, as if anything he had to say just wasn’t important enough for her anymore. Not that it ever had been. The way Cora almost blanked him whenever he tried to talk to her, the way Erica and Boyd were too wrapped up in themselves to even notice him, the way Isaac was always sucking up to Scott, like he’d forgotten Derek had ever existed, the way Allison could barely look at him. Even Peter seemed to be staying as far away from Stiles as possible. He had no idea what he’d done. No idea how to fix it. He thought back to his conversation with Jackson earlier, he was lonely, god, he was so lonely, how could he be surrounded by so many people and still feel so alone? Like none of them cared about him? Like none of them wanted to be around him? The only people who seemed to want to talk to him were Sam and Dean, and they were somewhere else in the country, okay, sure, they’d said they were coming back, but, what if that had been them just trying to placate him when actually they were racing as fast as they could in the opposite direction, away from him. Hell, even Derek had left him behind without so much as a goodbye. Maybe it wasn’t just to get away from him, maybe there were other reasons, but Stiles was feeling sorry for himself. He was beginning to think that none of the pack wanted him around, after all he wasn’t anything special. Just the one that usually got himself kidnapped, or beaten up, or possessed. 

Stiles must have been driving two hours, just speeding out of town along the road, no idea where he was heading, just anything to get away from the complete and utter failure that he felt. No wonder Scott didn’t want him around, all he managed to do was get himself hurt or kidnapped, or held hostage. He never did anything to help them, okay, so maybe he came up with plans, but most of the time they went wrong. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, he felt like he couldn’t breathe, the same thoughts racing over and over, Sam and Dean were missing, nobody believed him, he was unable to help them, or any of the other missing people. He felt sick, being able to breathe was getting harder, he knew this was the start of a panic attack. He pulled over into a conveniently located diner, parked quickly in a space and then rested his head against the steering wheel, trying to calm his breathing. 

It was almost half an hour later when he was finally calm enough to look up from the wheel, “Okay.” He said calmly to himself, “Alright Stiles, you might not be fast, or strong, or have wolf healing, but you are still awesome. And it’s not going to solve anything sitting here feeling sorry for yourself. So go home, look at the board, figure this out. You can do it.” He said, trying to encourage himself to do just that, who cared if he needed to talk to himself to achieve it? He nodded firmly, starting up the engine. 

Stiles heard his phone ding with an incoming message and he looked down at it quickly, seeing a voicemail from a number he didn’t recognize, he went to listen to it and then froze as his gaze locked on something in the rear-view mirror.

“What the hell?” He said quietly, his mouth hanging open in shock, his mind going into overdrive. There was a car parked in the motel across the road, a car he would recognize anywhere. The impala.

He stumbled out of his jeep unable to believe his eyes, sure that if he blinked it would disappear. His legs felt like jelly, the relief sweeping through him, the voicemail on his phone long forgotten, Sam and Dean would be here, just on the other side of the door. He stumbled to the room that had the impala outside and began pounding on the door. 

“Dean! Sam!” He called out, hitting the door so hard he thought he would probably knock it down. He giggled stupidly, he wouldn’t be able to knock a door down, he didn’t have wolf strength, even though he had been working out recently, trying to get faster and stronger. He blinked rapidly, waiting for the door to open, waiting to see Dean’s grumpy face because despite the fact it was early afternoon he wouldn’t have had any coffee yet, probably only just stumbling out of bed. Sam would be stood behind him, a light grin on his face, Stiles and him sharing a private joke at how bad Dean was before coffee. He waited. And he waited. The grin was slipping from his face. “Sam! Dean!” He said, pounding even more viciously on the door, they would answer, they would. He wasn’t leaving until he saw them. 

“Hey kid!” Somebody called across the car park, Stiles turned to look at him, sure it was Dean, sure that they had just been out and now they were here. Instead he saw what he assumed was the manager of the motel, he was wearing a vest that may have been white once upon a time but was now grey complete with various unnamed stains. He was a large guy, although he was probably only a few inches taller than Stiles, he was as wide as a house, with a gut as equally big. When he stood in front of Stiles he practically blocked out the very little bit of sun there was and Stiles shivered in his shadow. “What the hell are you doing?” He shouted to Stiles who seemed to suddenly realize how deranged his actions seemed. He glanced back to the door, still no movement. 

“I’m looking for my cousins.” He said, surprised by how steady his voice sounded. 

“That ain’t my problem, now get outta here.” He said gruffly but Stiles stood his ground. 

“This is their car.” He said, pointing to the impala next to him, “They must be here, now can you open the door and let me in or I can call my dad, who by the way is the Sheriff in the next town over and tell him to come here and break the damn door down himself?” Stiles said, putting all the confidence he had into his words. The man practically snarled at him before pulling out his keys and unlocking the door. It took Stiles a whole thirty seconds to see that Sam and Dean weren’t in the tiny room, but he still decided to check under the beds in case they were just playing some massively unfunny joke on him. 

“Alright kid, that’s enough. They ain’t here.” He grumbled. Stiles sighed heavily, all the tension back in his shoulders, he looked again around the room, their bags were here, the car keys sat on the table, one phone carelessly thrown on the bed, the other placed on the table near the keys. There was nothing out of place, nothing to say that something awful had happened here, but Stiles knew that something had. He knew that Sam and Dean had been taken against their will from this place. He was certain of it. “You best get on your way now.” The man said still standing in the doorway.

“No.” Stiles said pulling out his phone, “This is a crime scene. I’m calling my dad and then we can figure out what happened to them.” Already starting to dial his dad’s number. He turned his back on the man, searching again for any clues that might lead him to Sam and Dean, what he really needed was Scott, the guy could sniff them out from here, he was sure. He hesitated for a moment, maybe he should call Scott first, but then Scott was busy with whatever supernatural drama was going on that Stiles wasn’t supposed to be involved in.

“How do you know that?” The bloke asked, sounding curious, Stiles looked again at the room. 

“That is Sam’s phone.” He said indicating the phone on the table, “Except it’s next to the keys. Sam never has the keys, only when he’s driving, then he gives them straight back to Dean. He wouldn’t have the keys next to his phone. They’d be next to Dean’s.” Stiles said, glad he found something small out of place, the fact that there was something out of place, no matter how small, meant he was right, they had been taken. He felt movement behind him, he turned around, too slow to stop the big fist colliding with the side of his head. He went down hard and fast, darkness already closing in around him. His last thought was that once again he had been an idiot, running off when nobody knew where he was and now he was going to get himself killed, just typical. He was going to die because he was a complete idiot.

 

Sam and Dean had pulled up to the motel late at night, they were only an hour or so from Beacon Hills but they were both still recovering from the Daeva attack, they had driven pretty much non-stop since Stiles had called and they were both wiped out. Sam had gone and checked them in for the night, their full intentions to finish the drive once they had both had a few hours sleep. Dean had gone across to the diner, grabbed them some food and headed back to the room. They ate quickly and in silence, both of them too tired to think of anything other than bed. Dean had sensed the movement at the door, heard them as soon as they had stepped into the room, he just hadn’t been able to open his eyes to more than slits. He had tried to get his limbs to move but they hadn’t wanted to, he had his hand wrapped tight around the knife he always slept with under his pillow but he wasn’t able to move his arm to use it. They’d taken them both, Dean had seen Sam was in the exact same predicament and every instinct he has was screaming at him to protect Sam. Instead he’d been thrown over some guys shoulder and then thrown ungracefully into the back of a pick-up. And now he was here.

He still wasn’t sure where here was, despite the fact that he thought it had to be maybe four or five days later. It was hard to tell time here, hard to keep time here. He knew it was underground, the stale air that surrounded him had him convinced of that as soon as he had first woken up. He hadn’t seen Sam since and he was sure he was slowly losing his mind, going over every single possibility of all the things that could be happening to Sam, how much he could be suffering. It made Dean want to scream and cry at the same time. There was a hum of electricity and Dean glanced up, looking at where the electric prong rested against the bars of his cage. 

“Time to fight. You going willingly this time or do I need to use this again?” The jailer said, a snide smirk on his lips, Dean looked at him fantasizing about all the things he was going to do to this guy as soon as he got out of here, Dean knew the guy saw it in his eyes, he smiled.

“I’ll kill you. Don’t doubt it for one second buddy. My face is going to be the last thing you ever see.” The jailer took a step back before seeming to remember that Dean was behind bars and he held a way of incapacitating him. He rammed the cattle prong into the cage which was the size of a large dog cage, small enough that Dean couldn’t get out of the way. Dean arched up as electricity screamed through his body and then everything faded to black.

He regained consciousness as he felt himself falling, he put his hands out to stop himself but he still managed to hit the dirt hard. He looked up, seeing the electrified fence that surrounded the cage, the bright lights, the shine of the multiple red lights that he knew meant this was being recorded for some sick fuck to watch. He pulled himself to his feet, spitting out a mouthful of blood from where he must have bitten his own tongue. The gate at the far side of the cage opened up and another body was shoved through, this guy was at least still conscious as he walked in under his own steam.

“Look man,” Dean started, “I don’t want to fight you. We don’t have to do this.” He held his hands in front of him trying to placate the guy into not doing something stupid. Dean hated this, he knew that if he didn’t fight, he’d be taken into the dark room and tortured, thrown back into his cell and then wait until it was time to fight again, but still, even knowing all that, he didn’t want to fight this guy. Not because he didn’t think he couldn’t take him, because hell yes, of course he could, no matter how much his ribs ached and his fingers throbbed, despite the fact he couldn’t form a proper fist because of his pretty likely broken wrist, he still knew he could take this guy. 

He didn’t want to fight him because he knew that the guy wasn’t here by his own choice. He’d probably been taken too, just like the rest of them. He was being forced to fight for the entertainment of whoever was watching through their video screens, forced to fight every single time his number was called. Maybe the first time you had to fight, just maybe, you refused, but usually for most people after one trip to the dark room you decided fighting was better, unfortunately Dean wasn’t like most people and he was currently expecting this next trip to be trip number nine. It wasn’t like they fought to the death, just to the point of unconsciousness, but still, Dean didn’t want to fight these guys, he didn’t want to hurt them unnecessarily. 

Before he could say anymore the guy charged him, swinging a large fist at his head, Dean blocked with his bad wrist, wincing slightly as the pain radiated through his arm. He ducked low, threw a shot in the guy’s ribs, knocking the wind out of him. He stumbled backwards a step, a look of shock on his face before it was replaced with anger. The guy charge him again, this time Dean dodged out of his way, ducking under his flailing arms, Dean sighed heavily, he wasn’t going to be able to talk this guy out of fighting, he was going to have to end this quickly. He dodged the next two punches that came his way before slamming an elbow into the guys face knocking him instantly to the ground. Dean glanced down at him saw the steady rise and fall of his chest, just knocked out, not dead, he let out a sigh of relief. A moment later the doors of the fighting ring opened up again and Dean was once again stuck with the cattle prod. 

The next thing he was aware of was cold water being thrown over him, “Wake up you sack of shit.” Dean sat up quickly, swiping at the water covering his face, the guard walked past his cage, rattling the bars of some of the other cages. Dean glanced around, trying to see if he could see Sam now as people never seemed to get thrown in the same cage twice, he hoped that at some point he would be able to see his brother. “Sam!” He called out but there was no reply. The guard came back and seemed to take great satisfaction is pouring icy cold water over Dean again as he could do nothing about it other than sit and shiver. 

Dean knew he had a little while before he had to fight again, the way he had it figured if you won a fight you got to rest, if you lost then you would fight again sooner. Like they were being graded on some sort of points system, he didn’t understand it and it hurt his head when he thought about it for too long, all he could think of was finding Sam and getting the hell out of here. He knew that somebody was recording their fights but beyond that he didn’t know what the else was going on. He leaned back against the back of the cage, hunched over, and trying to stifle the rising panic that there was nothing he could do to get out of here and that Sam was hurt and there was nothing he could do to help.

“It’s the damn stupidest thing you’ve ever done!” A voice hissed as it walked along the hallway, Dean perked up, it sounded like one of the guards had done something stupid, more stupid than usual, Dean tried to hide his grin. 

“I’m sorry boss, I just didn’t know what to do.” Came the reply, Dean recognized that voice, it was one of the jailers who seemed to have so much fun sticking that damn cattle prod into his ribs, he was almost certain it was the same guy who had booked them in at the motel, but, Dean hadn’t really being paying proper attention to him because he’d been that tired and Sam had been the one to speak to him. There was a heavy sigh in return, the boss was obviously not best pleased and even Dean could tell that, “I just panicked, the kid was looking for his cousins, he was picking up on things. I couldn’t let him leave.” Dean heard the words and felt his heart rate pick up instantly, had this guy kidnapped a kid? Killed him? 

“We’re supposed to be picking off people that nobody will really miss, not going after someone that will have the goddamn county breathing down our necks in ten minutes.” The boss replied. Dean felt something like hope start to burn through his veins, this kid was obviously somebody important. He prayed he could hear the rest of the conversation; that they wouldn’t move away before they were done. It seemed that somebody was listening to his prayers as the boss and the guard stayed just out of eyesight but still within earshot. 

“Well, what do you want me to do with him?” The guard asked again, uncertainty clear in his voice. There was a moment of silence as the boss obviously thought through his options.

“Throw him in a cage, we might as well make some cash off the little bastard. We’ll have him fight tonight.” There was a pause before the boss spoke again, “And Tim,” He said as an afterthought, his voice low and threatening, “Next time you decide to snatch up some kid, try to make sure it’s not the kid of a fucking sheriff!” The boss warned angrily. Dean felt his heart rate go through the roof, the brief flair of hope that he had had was now buried beneath a tidal wave of despair.

“No.” He found himself whispering in denial, “Not Stiles. Please not Stiles.” He said quietly, praying over and over that it wouldn’t be his cousin, that Stiles wasn’t locked in this pit with them.

 

Noah was on his sixth cup of coffee of the day, he was sat around the briefing table with several of the other officers. Deputy Miller was at the end of the table, a screen behind her, a grim smile on her face. She’d rushed into his office a half an hour earlier, she’d managed to crack the password to the website that Stiles had found. Noah had seen the site and paled before calling a meeting of all his forces, hence why they found themselves in the briefing room. 

“Alright, Deputy Miller, please can you share what you’ve found?” He said, starting the meeting, wanting to get this over so he could get out there and start searching for Sam and Dean, no doubt in his mind now that they had been taken too. Well, Dean had been definitely, he’d seen that much himself.

“Thank you Sheriff.” Claire said acknowledging him, “We were directed to the website earlier in the week, I managed to crack the password less than hour ago and we’re now able to log into this site.” She informed them, bringing up the website on the board behind her. “Now, what you are seeing is a live stream, or at least, I think it’s a live stream,” She said doubting herself, there was no movement on the screen at the time being. “I’ve set this up to record so we can always run back over any evidence that we can gather, anything we might miss, even the smallest thing, it could lead us to them.” She paused again, chewing nervously on her bottom lip, “Well, I’ll sum it up for you guys as quick as I can. Basically, it seems like the people that are taken are being made to fight. When I was able to hack in earlier, I grabbed the Sheriff, there was a fight taking place at the time. We identified the fighters as Dean Winchester and Matthew Parks, both of who you will see on the list of missing people.” She paused, trying to gather her thoughts, pointing again to the screen behind her, “As you can see, the site is essentially designed as a betting arena, you can make bets on each fighter, and even select which person you want to see fight again. We’re already trying to track the location of where the broadcast is coming from, but it’s proving difficult. In the mean-time, we’re trying to see if there is anything recognizable within the screen, so please speak up if any of you can think of a location like this.” She glanced around the table and met Noah’s eyes. He wished that somebody else had an answer, an idea, because Claire had put so much effort into breaking into the site, and really it hadn’t got them any further along. He sighed heavily.

“Thank you for the update deputy Miller.” Noah acknowledged, quickly the room descended into suggestions, places they could be located, what the new information meant. Noah glanced at his phone, still no contact from Stiles, he got out of his chair and headed for the main room, hoping for a little bit more quiet than in the meeting room. He quickly called Stiles, not exactly surprised when he didn’t answer, “Look, Stiles, I’m sorry about earlier. I wanted to tell you I believe you. And that I’m sorry. I’m putting everything I have into finding them. We will find them.” He paused, his mind flashing back to the look of hurt on Stiles’ face earlier. “I love you Stiles. I’m sorry.” He hung up the call, despising the fact that once again he had doubted his son. He stepped back into the meeting room, by now there was a long list of possible hideouts. Part of Noah just wanted to put his head in his hands, he was so tired, and really this didn’t give them anything. No major breakthrough. 

Time seemed to move quickly and soon it was evening, all eyes had been darting back to the screen that still projected the website behind them, all of them seeming to be waiting for the next fight, waiting to see if they could figure anything out. 

“Welcome!” A voice suddenly boomed through the speakers, shocking the room into the silence, “Our next fight will be starting in five minutes. We will have number twenty-four fighting against fresh meat tonight. Place your bets now!” The voice commanded. Noah watched the screen as a second screen showed the statistics of number twenty-four, eleven fights, seven losses. There was a sort of morbid curiosity in the room, nobody wanted to watch this, but nobody could tear their eyes away. Five minutes later the voice spoke again, “Number twenty-four ladies and gentlemen!” A gate opened and a young man walked into the ring, he was probably in his early twenties, fair hair, he was tall and well built, but he also looked banged up, he’d obviously taken a bit of a beating. But his face was set in determination, he cracked his knuckles, shook the tension from his shoulders. “And the competitor, Number thirty-eight, Fresh Meat!” The voice rang out. A second gate was opened and a young man was tossed unceremoniously into the ring. Noah paused for a moment, his heart rate rising, he was sure that Stiles had been wearing that t-shirt when he took off this morning, he couldn’t see the kid’s face, he needed to see his face, Noah felt himself rising from his seat just trying to get a proper look. The boy stood up, brushing off the dirt on his jeans. He seemed unsteady on his feet and Noah could see blood running down the back of his neck and splattered on his t-shirt. 

The kid turned around, becoming aware of his surroundings and Noah felt his heart stutter out of rhythm. 

“Stiles.” He whispered, seeing that every eye in the room was suddenly on him. “How did they get my son?” He said quietly, unable to believe what he was seeing, “How the fuck did they get my son!?” He roared suddenly, an unbelievable anger overwhelming him upon seeing his son shoved into that cage.

 

“How long before they get here?” Malia asked impatiently. It was late afternoon and a cool breeze blew through the woods where they were waiting for the other pack to arrive. 

Scott shook his head, “I don’t know Malia. They’ll be here when they get here.” They’d been planning this all day, because Scott didn’t want to have to fight off another pack, he wanted to at least try and reason with them, and so, despite the fact Malia had said time and time again that this was a bad idea, and that Stiles would have a better plan, they were here waiting for them. Scott knew that they were the ones behind the disappearances, he was almost positive of it, he was sure that they had a few members in the pack who couldn’t control their urges and that was why so many people were missing. He had called Stiles earlier, wanting to apologize for keeping him out of this, but it had felt like the right thing to do, Stiles was so breakable, he didn’t want to see his friend getting hurt. 

He heard light footsteps coming towards them, smelt a change in the air and straightened up, Boyd and Isaac stepped to either side of him while the rest of pack stood a step behind. They looked united, a strong pack. Three men stepped into the clearing, the Alpha obviously at the front and his two betas behind him. He was older than Scott, maybe Derek’s age? He had dark hair and bright green eyes, and although his skin was tanned, he still looked washed out and, if Scott was honest, the guy looked exhausted.

“Thank you for requesting to speak to us. I apologize for trespassing on your land.” The man spoke suddenly, he was very formal, but Scott could hear the weariness in his voice. Boyd and Isaac both glanced at Scott, confusion evident on their faces, why hadn’t the guy attacked already? 

“Why are you trespassing then?” Isaac said after a moment of silence, Scott remained silent, let Isaac ask the questions if he wanted, Scott would meanwhile listen to ensure that no other wolves were sneaking up on them, that this wasn’t an ambush.

“Usually I would have gone about this better, but we didn’t realise we had crossed over into your pack lands until it was too late.” The man explained, sighing heavily, this only seemed to raise more questions, Scott arched his eyebrow questioningly. “My name is Percy, these are my beta’s Jason and Frank.” He said indicating the men on either idea him, one a lean man with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, the other a hulk of a man, dark haired, barrel chested man who looked like he could crush Scott’s head between his hands without a second thought. “Two weeks ago, a member of my pack was taken from us. Frank and Leo were out, just getting the groceries, when they were ambushed. Frank had a special skill and he was able to get free of the witch’s spell…” 

“Hang on a second,” Malia interrupted, “You’re saying your pack was attacked by a witch?” 

“Yes.” Percy continued, “I don’t know why, and I don’t know how she knew. But she wasn’t alone. She had a few other men with her, she paralyzed Leo and Frank, made it so they were unable to fight back.” He glanced across to Frank, who let out a small nod before continuing with the story.

“We couldn’t do anything, we were awake, but we couldn’t do anything about it. I watched as they threw Leo in the back of a car and then they were coming back for me.” Despite his hulking appearance, Frank sounded like a lost kid, his genuine care for his pack mate obvious, he scrubbed his hands across his face, as if wishing he didn’t have to relive this memory, Percy placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I have a little bit of magic on my mother’s side so I was able to fight a few effects of the spell, I managed to crawl away from them, despite the fact that they kept trying to pull me back towards the car. I started screaming for help, which I know was pretty pathetic, but I didn’t know what else to do. Anyway, I must have gotten somebodies attention, because suddenly there was like a swarm of people around me. Except the car was gone, and Leo was gone.” Frank finished his story, glancing up to look at Scott, his heartbeat had been steady the whole time, Frank wasn’t lying. It also didn’t seem like there were any other wolves waiting to attack them. Scott relaxed just a little bit.

“So why come here then?” Scott asked, trying not to sound too much like a sucker, as if there was still some doubt about their story.

“We were tracking Leo. I thought I could feel him somewhere around here, but I keep losing him. I didn’t realise that we were on your lands until it was too late.” Percy said, sounding genuinely sorry, “I understand that this is not normal procedure, but please,” He pleaded, “I just want to find my pack mate. I promise you that as soon as he is found we will be gone from your lands.”

Scott mulled it over for a moment, he believed them, their heartbeats were steady throughout their story, he had no reason to doubt their story, and moreover, he found that he wanted to believe it. It made much more sense than a random pack suddenly deciding to invade their lands and taking, possibly killing, over twenty people. Scott didn’t know what happened to the missing people, if they were killed or held prisoner, or the hundred other things that raced through his mind. It made more sense that they were looking for their pack mate. Except now he had to deal with the fact that something else was taking these people and apparently there was a witch involved too.

“Alright, I believe you, and we’ll do everything we can to help you find your pack mate.” Scott said addressing the three wolves in front of him. Scott thought of Stiles, of how he’d been so insistent that there was something else going on, and Scott hadn’t told him about the pack, so afraid that he’d get hurt again, except now he needed Stiles to know everything, needed him to help him figure out what was going on. He thought back to the harsh words he had spoken earlier, how Stiles had looked at him with such hurt in his eyes, and Scott knew there was more behind it, almost like acceptance, or resignation, like Stiles felt he somehow deserved Scott being such a dick to him. Scott felt like punching himself, he’d hurt Stiles again! He’d hurt him so many times in the past that Scott had lost track, and every time he said to himself he’d do better, he wouldn’t let Stiles get hurt again because of him. Except this time, he was the one doing the hurting, insinuating to Stiles that he was the reason Allison was nearly killed, yeah, that was a low blow, even by Scott’s standards. God he was a jackass.

He glanced to his pack who already seemed to know what he was thinking. 

“Stiles will know what to do.” Lydia spoke up eventually, her faith in Stiles unwavering.

“I was just thinking that.” Scott nodded in agreement.

“Who’s Stiles?” Jason asked, looking at the four of them in confusion, obviously desperate to get on and find Leo.

“He’s pack and he’s smart. He’ll figure this out.” Scott said pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialling Stiles’ number, cursing under his breath when it went straight to voicemail, he was obviously still angry at Scott, “Stiles, look, I’m really sorry about what I said earlier, I didn’t mean to upset you, I just, I worry about you man, that’s all, if anything happened to you, it would kill me, you know? I’m really sorry, I’m going to come over to yours and we can talk, and try and sort this out, okay?” Scott said, about to shove the phone back in his pocket, startled when it started ringing a moment later. Except it wasn’t Stiles number, it was the station. “Hello?” He answered in confusion.

“Oh, thank god, Scott!” Noah said, relief evident in his voice, “Scott, listen, you need to come to the station right now.” Noah said intensely.

“Why? What’s going on?” Scott asked, sensing the panic in Noah’s voice, looking around at the other wolves in the clearing and knowing they could hear it too. 

“It’s Stiles. They’ve taken Stiles.” Noah answered, trying to hold back his sobs.

It seemed like all the air had suddenly left his lungs, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think straight. What did Noah mean when he said they’d taken Stiles? How did he know? Who was they? 

“I’m on my way.” He said eventually ending the call with trembling fingers. 

The entire pack raced to the station as quickly as they could, probably breaking a few driving laws in the process but none of them cared, Percy, Jason and Frank included. When he got there the Sheriff directed them into his office, looking more nervous and tense than Scott had ever seen him. 

“What happened?” Scott asked instantly, needing to know where to start trying to track Stiles down. Noah glanced at the three new people, “They are from a different pack, one of their members was taken. We’re going to find him and we’re going to find Stiles.” Scott said informing the Sheriff of the situation.

Noah nodded, he paced the room, like he was so pent up he was unable to sit still, it reminded Scott of Stiles and his heart beat faster, what the hell had happened? 

“Tell us what’s going on, please?” Cora pleaded, not used to seeing the Sheriff so agitated. Noah looked up at Scott and the rest of the pack before he sighed heavily, finally going to sit in his chair.

“Stiles gave us a website address, he was sure it had to do with the kidnappings. It was password protected. He told me this morning that he was sure Sam and Dean had been taken.” Percy raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner, it was Lydia who replied.

“Stiles’ cousins. Now shut up so we can hear the rest of the story.” Lydia snapped before motioning for Noah to continue.

“I told him he was wrong.” Noah said, looking like he was about to cry, before taking a deep breath and continuing. “This afternoon, one of the deputies managed to break into the website. Basically, it’s a fighting ring, and the missing people are the ones fighting, being made to fight, you can place bets on it and whatever.” He paused, trying to gather his thoughts, “People disgust me.” He said quietly, and Scott agreed, he could feel his own stomach swirling uncomfortably. “I saw Dean fighting, I know he’s there. We are trying to track the location of the broadcast, and see if we can recognize anything from the visuals. It was announced that another fight would be taking place soon. I watched the screen, and my son…” Noah pauses, his voice breaking with emotion, “My god damn son was being thrown into the ring. Made to fight.”

Scott was pretty sure he was going to be sick, the idea of Stiles being kidnapped was one thing, the idea of watching him have to fight for his life was another. He couldn’t breathe, this was all his fault, if he’d just told Stiles what was going on, if he’d taken him to the meeting with them, if he’d done something instead of push his best friend away. 

“What happened?” Scott heard himself ask, not sure if he wanted to know. Noah let out a deep sigh, pulling his laptop across the desk.

“Watch.”

 

Stiles felt like crap, his head was absolutely pounding, he touched the back of his head gently and when he drew his fingers back he saw they were covered in blood. He took in his surroundings, he was in a cage, it looked like a freaking dog cage, outside of the cage it was artificial light, no natural light made its way in here, the smell of stale air had him thinking he was underground somewhere. 

“Hello?” He called out, seeing if any of his captors would return. Instead there was a quiet mumbling and Stiles turned to see another cage about six foot away from him, currently occupied by a man around his age, with short curly hair and a deep tan. “Hey?” Stiles called out, “You okay?” There was no reply, “Can you tell me what this place is?” Still no answer, “Hey, look, it’s okay, I just want to know what’s going on. I was looking for my cousins. Maybe you’ve seen them? One’s really, really tall, kind of shaggy dark brown hair, the other is just really tall, he’s got shot dark blonde hair. Does any of this ring a bell?” Finally there was movement from the other cage, the guy turning to look at him.

“You’ve got to be quiet. If they know you’re awake, they’ll come for you.” He said, his voice barely above a whisper but Stiles could still hear the pain there. 

“Good.” Stiles said louder, “I want them to come. I want to know what the hell is going on here.” He glanced at the guy again, he looked like he was in some serious pain, he was covered in sweat and blood, “Hey, man, what’s your name? I’m Stiles.” The guy glanced up at him, Stiles could have sworn there was almost a smile at his lips.

“Leo.” He said simply.

“Well, Leo, don’t worry. I’m going to get you and me and my cousins, and whoever else is stuck in this cesspit out of here. I have friends okay? Friends who will be able to find me no matter where I am. They’ll come.” He said trying to reassure Leo, who only scoffed.

“Yeah. I’ve got friends like that too. Except I’ve been here god only knows how long and there is no sign of them yet.” Leo replied but Stiles only grinned. 

“You won’t have friends like mine. Trust me Leo. I’m going to get us out of here.” Stiles said confidently, “They’ll come. I know they will. We’re going to get out of here.” Leo opened his mouth to reply but was silenced when he heard footsteps approaching. 

“What number?” He heard someone ask, hating that Leo seemed to shrink into his cage as far as possible. 

“Thirty-Eight.” Another voice replied. Stiles didn’t know what was going on but he figured he would find out soon enough. A group of four people came into view and Stiles paled slightly, they were all tall, broad, covered in tattoos and scars and generally just scary looking. They stopped outside his cage, staring at him as if he was some kind of new species, one that was much lower down on the food chain than them obviously. 

“Well, gentlemen, it is lovely to meet you.” Stiles rambled, trying to hide his fear, “I think if I remember correctly, I’m usually entitled to one phone call in these situations. I’d like to call my father, you know, he’s the Sheriff of Beacon Hills. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to upset him.” Stiles said, hoping the false display of bravery would help him in the long run. It didn’t. 

They reached in and started dragging him out of the cage, before he could stand upright they slammed him down into the dirt ground again. Stiles spat out a mouthful of dust, “Well that just wasn’t very polite. You know I’m going to have to mark you down when it comes to writing a review.” He grinned manically, “You know something along the lines of, space is a little small, you get a one out of ten for that, décor, well,” He gestured to the room around him, “That’s going to have to be a zero, how did the staff treat you? Very poorly actually.” He was silenced by a fist to his stomach, knocking all the air out of his lungs, but he had heard Leo stifle a giggle while he had been ranting so that made him feel a bit better. 

“Take him to be branded, then put him in the cage.” The man, who was obviously the boss ordered them. The other three grabbed hold of him, gripping him tightly as he struggled to get away from them. He didn’t like the sound of that, not at all. He was pulled through another two rooms, each lined with occupied cages, he thought he was going to be sick, some of these guys looked like hell. 

“Sam!” He suddenly screeched, seeing his cousin crammed into one of those cages made him see red. He lashed out as much as he could, staring over to where Sam looked at him with pain filled eyes. It was obvious that Sam was in agony, Stiles could see his injuries from here, he was so badly injured that he wasn’t sure that Sam was alive to begin with. But then he saw Sam’s eyes on him, saw him recognize Stiles, saw his name form on Sam’s lips as he lost the little colour he had left. He was covered in blood, his shirt had been torn away and there were cuts littering his body, the number thirty-two had been branded in to his wrist, Stiles thought he was going to be sick. His captors were dragging him away from Sam and Stiles fought them with everything he had.

“No!” He screamed, “Sam! Stop it! Get off me! Sam!” He twisted and turned, trying to get out of their iron grip and get to his cousin but it was no use. He was dragged kicking and screaming away from Sam, they pulled him through into another room, the first thing that hit him was how much hotter it was in here than in the other rooms, he took another look and saw more cages, but his eyes were fixed on the fire at the far end of the room. Another man waited there, a feral grin on his lips and he was twirling an iron bar in the fire. 

“Stiles?” He heard a shocked voice ask, he turned to look and saw Dean peering out at him from behind the bars of his cage, “Stiles!” He shouted louder, “No! Get off him! Don’t do this!” 

“Dean!” Stiles called back, terror in his voice when he saw the state of his other cousin, he’d obviously taken a beating as well, he couldn’t help but notice the number thirty-three burned into Dean’s wrist where he gripped the cage tightly, but he was alive, and conscious, which was better than Sam. He tried to pull out of the men’s grip again, but they were still dragging him relentlessly towards the fire. Dean was still shouting in the background but all Stiles could hear was the blood rushing in his ears. The man by the fire had pulled out the iron bar and Stiles could clearly see the number thirty-eight glowing brightly on the end of it. He paled and tried again with renewed strength to get away from them, they shoved him to his knees, stretching his arm out in front of him, holding him so tight he couldn’t move as the bar was lowered onto his inner wrist. He screamed as it burned, he didn’t care that everyone could hear him, he didn’t care about anything right now other than trying to get away from the heat that was tearing him apart. 

Suddenly his arm was plunged into a bucket of icy cold water and Stiles took a moment to breathe as the burning ebbed away slightly. He couldn’t look at his wrist, sure that all flesh had been melted from it, he thought he was going to be sick it hurt so much. The man who had branded him grinned at him and Stiles couldn’t even find the strength to glare at him, he was certain he was going to throw up.

“Just in case you forget where you are in the food chain. That’s who you are now. Not a Sheriff’s son, not a son, or brother, or cousin, or friend. You are thirty-eight.” He grabbed hold of Stiles’ hand, shoving his inner wrist so that Stiles couldn’t help but look at the number burnt into his skin. “That is all you are.” The man said before letting Stiles’ wrist fall.

Stiles was fairly sure he was in shock, he felt them pulling him to his feet, dragging him into yet another room, and Jesus, just how big was this place? And why did the walls all look like stone rather than brick? And was it odd that something felt familiar about this place? If he could only get the pounding in his head to stop then he might be able to figure it out. Until suddenly he was shoved through a gate and he fell hard onto the ground. 

He looked up, trying to fight off the nausea still swirling in his stomach. He was in a cage, but this one was much bigger, it looked more like one of those wrestling rings that you see on television, except this one had a twelve-foot fence around it, he could practically hear the electricity running through the metal, he really didn’t want to touch that fence, knowing it wouldn’t end well. He tried not to think about the agony in his wrist, or the pounding in his head, he wanted to figure out what he was doing here. He looked and saw the man opposite him, his face set in determination instead of confusion, he had also taken a beating sometime recently, Stiles was beginning to think it was the norm here. He looked again and saw a multitude of red lights shining through the metal of the cage, he peered at one closely, realized that they were being recorded. 

“Hey dude, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I don’t want any trouble.” Stiles said, eyeing up the man opposite him, staring at his fists that were clenched tightly at his side. The man seemed to take that as an invitation and suddenly came at Stiles, he swung wildly and Stiles just managed to step out of the way, “What the hell dude!?” He said in anger, was this guy on steroids or something? 

“Fight me!” The man roared, Stiles could see the anger in his gaze, but he could also sense the fear behind it.

“I’m not fighting you.” Stiles said, not quite stepping out of the way before a fist connected with his side. He managed to dart across the ring to the other side, he wasn’t going to fight this guy, but he didn’t exactly want to get beaten to a pulp either. “Dude!” He shouted as he narrowly dodged another swinging fist. “I’m not going to fight you. I’m not! Okay? So just tell me what the hell is going on here!” He shouted, dodging another fist. He was glad he hung out with werewolves, human speed was really quite slow compared to them. Stiles had so much experience with werewolf fighting that his reflexes had obviously improved slightly.

“Fight me!” The man demanded again, following the demand with another swinging fist.

“What the hell is this?” Stiles said loudly, figuring if he wouldn’t get an answer from the steroid guy, that maybe his captors would be more helpful. “Is this some kind of fight club?” He grinned, “Rule number one, you do not talk about fight club. Rule number two, you do not talk about fight club.” He laughed at his own joke, stepping again out of reach of another fist, but then the grin slipped from his face as his thoughts caught up with him. This was some kind of fight club. They kidnapped people and then made them fight, while they what? What did these guys get from it? He looked again at the red lights, of course! He felt so stupid, he actually smacked himself in the forehead, that’s what the website was, they broadcast these fights, got people to bet on the fighters. He was so lost in thought that he was too late to dodge the fist that was coming towards his face, he’d zoned out at the most critical time. He went down hard, and then the guy had started kicking him in the stomach, really? Was that necessary? Stiles thought to himself as he lay in the dirt.

“Alright, enough.” A voice said. Instantly the kicking stopped and Stiles took a moment trying to catch his breath. A man stepped into the cage, a balaclava covering his face. “The victor is Twenty-Four.” He looked down at Stiles with disgust evident in his eyes, “Take Thirty-Eight to the dark room, show him what we do to those who don’t fight.” Two more men entered the ring and dragged Stiles from his position on the ground. Stiles couldn’t help but let out a moan of pain as he was moved, trying hard to bite his tongue so they wouldn’t know just how bad he was hurt. 

Within a moment he was thrown back on the ground, except he wasn’t sure that he had opened his eyes, everything was so dark. He could hear the shuffling movements that meant he wasn’t in here alone. Without warning there was a sharp stinging pain as a knife sliced across his arm. He grimaced and tried to pull himself away from the threat, except he couldn’t see it, and, oh god, he couldn’t move! What the hell was going on? He couldn’t move, it was like being paralyzed by Kanima venom all over again. “Stop!” He shouted but there was no reply, only the sting as the knife sliced through him again.

He felt the knife slice across his legs again and he tried not to scream, another cut and he could feel the tears streaming down his face as he fought to hold the screams in. He was sure he was going to bleed out here on the floor, sure that the wounds inflicted so far were only the beginning, and the entire time there was only silence, no matter how much he begged for it to stop, there was only silence in return. The pain only seemed to build as the knife sliced through his skin over and over, across his arms, his legs, his chest, his back. God, it hurt, it hurt so much. He couldn’t stop himself from screaming anymore, anything to try and relieve the pain. 

It felt like hours later when it finally stopped, Stiles was sobbing, his throat hoarse from screaming, but for now it was over. He heard the shuffle of feet and suddenly he was being dragged out of the room and back towards the fighting cage. 

 

Noah sat in silence as the group in front of him watched Stiles fight, or not fight as the case may be, he didn’t need to have werewolf hearing to hear the screams that had echoed from ‘the dark room’ as it was called, but worse was the silence afterwards, when the screaming had stopped and he wasn’t sure if his son was unconscious or dead. The recording ended and there was a shocked silence around the room. 

“Why?” Scott asked quietly, his voice sounding broken and Noah couldn’t help but be reminded that he was still a kid, hell, they all were. None of them should know about the darkness in this world, their jobs as parents were to protect them from it and Noah had failed miserably. Stiles was hurt, in danger, being tortured, and Noah didn’t know how to help him.

“I don’t know.” Noah replied, his throat tight. “We need to find him.” 

“We will.” Lydia said firmly, her voice fierce. “He’s not dead. I’d know if he was dead. We’ll find him. We aren’t going to let him down again.” She said, glaring at Scott as she spoke. Noah thought he must have been missing something. This wasn’t Scott’s fault. This was his fault. He’d practically driven Stiles away, not wanting to admit that Sam and Dean were missing. 

There was a knock at the door and Deputy Miller entered the room, a nervous look on her face. 

“Sheriff?” She asked nervously, avoiding eye contact.

“Yeah?” He replied, weary with what he was sure was going to be more bad news.

“It’s, erm, Sheriff, the thing is…” Miller began awkwardly.

“What is it?” Noah asked, he’d never heard the woman sound so nervous before. 

“They’ve called his number again.” She admitted quietly.

It took Noah a second to process what she was saying and then he was striding out of the room, the others all trailing behind him. His son was being made to fight again. Noah was going to have to watch him fight again.

Stiles was just appearing on the screen as Noah entered the room and he couldn’t stop the tears that were filling his eyes. Stiles was covered in blood, probably all his own, his shirt and trousers were shredded and Noah could see the cuts and bruises underneath them, Stiles was swaying unsteadily, his eyes barely focusing on the man in the cage with him. 

His opponent must have been in his early thirties, but he looked to have spent many of those years in the gym and taking steroids, he was easily twice the size of Stiles and he had a feral grin on his face, showing just how much he was going to enjoy this. He ran at Stiles who managed to move out of his way only a moment before it would have been too late. The guy turned back to Stiles, smashing a massive fist into his chest. Stiles gasped in pain, the wind obviously knocked out of him, another fist connected with the side of his face a second later and Stiles spat out blood. 

Noah could hear the sounds of despair that filled the room, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from the screen, couldn’t look away from his son. The guy backed upwards, giving Stiles a moment to recover. Stiles spat out another mouthful of blood and then got unsteadily to his feet. 

“I’d give it up if I were you kid. It’ll be easier if you stay down.” 

Stiles, god, Noah was sure that his kid was going to give him heart failure, he was certain of it, Stiles looked up at his opponent, and he god damn grinned, okay, it was a bloody grin, but there was still a grin there, still some sign that his son wasn’t beaten just yet. 

“Funny thing, actually, I don’t ever do anything the easy way.” Stiles said, the grin still in place despite how raw his voice sounded. Noah couldn’t stop the tears in his eyes, the hope he felt at knowing that his son was still fighting this. 

Stiles dodged the next few hits, pacing carefully around the edge of the cage, always getting out of the way of the swinging fists. Noah wasn’t sure how he was doing it, how Stiles was keeping himself upright despite the blood that was covering him, he wasn’t sure that he would have had the strength had he been in that position. 

His opponent was getting closer, trying to make sure that Stiles didn’t have time to doge the next fist, he swung again, the arrogance on his face that this time he would hit Stiles and there would be nowhere for him to go. 

Stiles ducked at the last possible second, sending the guys fist straight into the electrified fence behind him. The man cried out in agony as he was flung backwards halfway across the cage and he lay twitching on the floor. 

“The Winner! Number Thirty-Eight.” A voice announced to the viewers. “The next fight will take place in two hours.” 

Noah watched as the gate to the cage was opened and the man who was still twitching on the floor was dragged from the cage. Stiles backed away from the men who had entered the cage now, seemingly intent on keeping away from them. One of the men grinned at him before pulling out a cattle prod and jamming it into Stiles’ side. 

Noah watched at Stiles fell to the floor, a cry of pain slipping from his lips before unconsciousness took him. Tears spilling down his cheeks as he watched his son been dragged from the cage.

 

Lydia’s heart was pounding in her throat, she had been on edge ever since Scott had taken the Sheriffs call. Something had happened to Stiles, she knew it, but knowing it and seeing it, well, they were two very different things. 

She couldn’t help the tears that were flowing down her cheeks, or the way her throat was so tight, and she couldn’t help but let out broken sobs. She had heard him screaming in ‘the dark room’ whatever the hell that was, and she had struggled to breathe. She had wondered vaguely if this was how Stiles felt when he was having a panic attack, that there wasn’t enough air, there would never be enough air again. 

She’d been pushing him away recently, she knew she had, but she didn’t want to admit to him why, because it had sounded so ridiculous, she could barely say it to herself, never mind out loud. She didn’t know when it had happened, or even how it had happened, but, Stiles meant something to her, he meant a lot to her. She wasn’t in love with him, she knew that, she wasn’t sure she was really over Jackson leaving her yet, so she knew for a fact it wasn’t that she was in love with him. But, she did love him. God did she love him. She loved him like a brother, like a best friend, and the thought of anything happening to him made her feel queasy. 

She knew it was ridiculous, but, she didn’t want to tell Stiles how much he mattered to her, even though he probably knew already, but, she hating appearing weak, hated appearing like she needed anyone. She’d loved her dad and he’d left her and her mom, never to be heard of again. She loved her mom and she didn’t have any time for Lydia unless it was to improve her own standing. She’d told Jackson she loved him and he’d left her too. She’d told Aiden and he’d run out of town with Ethan the first chance he’d got. She couldn’t bear for Stiles to do the same. So, she’d kept her distance, pushed him away, pretended it didn’t bother her what was going on in Stiles’ life, because she couldn’t show any weakness, couldn’t admit to caring, not when it would hurt that much more when Stiles told her he didn’t love her or he left her too.

Times had changed so much in the last few years, Stiles had definitely changed. Lydia thought she had changed too. Gone was the silly kid who declared his love to her every chance he got, he was different now, more relaxed, more reserved, sometimes he was quiet, like he was lost in his own thoughts and Lydia longed to know what he was thinking about at those times, wondering which memory put that look of grief on his features. She asked him once and he brushed her off, making a joke about ‘Lydia Martin – the only girl in the world to genuinely wonder what I’m thinking about’ he’d teased and Lydia had given his an affectionate push and Stiles had laughed and they’d forgotten all about it. God, he was so important, so loved, so wanted, and she’d pushed him away because she was scared of losing him. 

Except now, now he was taken from them, and he was being tortured, and Lydia wanted to tell him, wanted him to know just how much she loved him, cared about him, wanted him around. And she couldn’t. She might never get the chance. And so she couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. 

She was aware of someone pulling her into a hug after the second fight, after watching Stiles’ unconscious form being dragged from the cage, after hearing that little cry of pain as they electrocuted him. She wanted to scream, and not in a ‘someone is about to die’ kind of way. She wanted to scream because Stiles was hurt, and those bastards had hurt him, and it hurt her to see him like that. She wanted to scream because the pain in her chest hurt, the feeling of rage overwhelming her and crushing her, but she couldn’t. 

She was Lydia Martin, she always held it together. She was strong. So instead she pulled away from the person hugging her, who turned out to be Scott, she swiped away the tears on her face and set her mouth in firm determination. 

“How do we find them?” She said to the room at large.

 

Leo watched as they dragged Stiles back to the cage next to his. He was grateful to see that the boy was still breathing even if he wasn’t conscious. He looked up at the ceiling above him, the way it twisted away into darkness, he smelt the stale air, the blood and pain that seemed to be a constant scent down here. He prayed that Percy was on his way; that Frank had managed to get away, that they were close to finding him. The wolfsbane that ran through his system burned and it only seemed to be getting worse. He could barely keep his strength up and he knew it had something to do with the witch that he saw on a regular basis. She came to his cage on what he thought was a daily basis but he wasn’t sure because he didn’t even know how long he’d been here now, she always observed him, an evil smirk on her lips, before ordering another dose to be administered. 

He waited until there was no one else around and then called out quietly, hoping that there would be some kind of reply from the motionless boy in the cage next to his.

“Stiles?” There was no answer, no smart ass comment, no grumble or groan or any kind of recognition that Stiles had heard him, but Leo could still see the rise and fall of his chest so he knew he was alive. 

Leo wasn’t sure how long he had been here, there was no sense of time; the only thing that broke up the day was when the guards came to take someone to fight, and the odd times that they threw them a bottle of water or some stale bread. They’d known what he was when they took him, he’d heard the witch telling the guards as soon as she had him. That she’d had to work harder to keep him still than with normal humans. They’d dosed him up with wolfsbane and then they’d tortured him to weaken him further, he wasn’t sure what they wanted with him, keeping him weak enough that he couldn’t shift, couldn’t fight his way out of here, but they wouldn’t put him in the ring to fight. He didn’t know why they had him and he prayed that Percy would come, that somebody would come, that they’d save him.

Stiles had appeared however much time afterwards, he’d been unconscious when they’d thrown him in his cage, but he’d come around soon enough. Leo had felt a small laugh bubble up when Stiles had told the guards off. It had been unexpected, he felt like crap so he wasn’t sure where he’d found the energy to laugh, but there was something about Stiles. Something that made Leo want to trust him, believe him when he said his friends would find him. 

The witch had appeared not long after, her blonde hair flowing down the back of her black dress. The dress clung in all the right places and Leo would have said she was gorgeous if it wasn’t for two things, the first was her eyes, they were a mossy green, but they were soulless, not like Percy’s that danced with almost constant amusement, no, these eyes were cold and dark and if you stared at them too long you felt like you were going to get sucked in. The second thing was her scent, she smelled of joy and death, and in a place like this, where pain and blood were the only constant smells, nobody should feel joy. 

He’d woken up to the sounds of Stiles screaming, he could hear at least one other person screaming Stiles’ name; he wondered if that was one of the cousins that Stiles had spoken of. It felt like hours later when Stiles had been dumped back into the cage next to him and Leo had felt his heart break a little at the look of him. He looked like he had taken a serious beating, his wrist branded with his number. Leo glanced at his own wrist where the number had since healed, in that moment he hated his werewolf powers, because as much as they were trying to help him to heal, they were useless to help Stiles. 

“Stiles?” He tried again, keeping his voice as low as possible. This time he received a groan in reply, and ever so slowly Stiles opened his eyes.

 

“What happened?” Stiles asked groggily, going to sit up and then changing his mind as pain shot through his body. He blinked a few times, trying to remember what had happened, it felt like he’d taken a beating, his head was throbbing in time to his pulse, the last thing he remembered was leaving Scott’s house. 

“Stiles, are you okay?” A voice said in the darkness. He turned his head slowly in the direction of the voice, noticing the bars that blocked his view. Huh bars? He thought, trying to process the slow trickle of memories. 

“Oh, yeah, cage, fight club.” He said more to himself than anybody else. 

“Stiles?” The voice said again, and he could hear the worry in it, what was the guy’s name again? He should remember this, he sighed heavily as his brain eventually caught up with him.

“Yeah Leo, I’m fine.” He said quietly, not wanting to speak any louder, not wanting to go back out there again, not wanting to have to face how raw his voice would sound if he spoke normally.

“You look like shit.” Leo muttered and Stiles laughed quietly, nothing more than a small huff of air.

“You’re not looking too hot yourself dude. You doing okay?” Stiles asked with concern and Leo smiled a little sadly, he would be fine, he would heal long before Stiles could, if he was given the chance, if either of them were.

“I’ll be fine.” Leo replied. There was silence. 

Stiles had closed his eyes again, trying not to think about how much his body hurt, he wondered how long he had been gone, had anyone even noticed he was missing yet? Probably not. His dad was working long hours at the moment, trying to track down the missing people. Stiles had been to the station on multiple occasions. He’d spent a whole afternoon with the new deputy, Miller. It had been quite enjoyable actually, okay so they were trying to hack into a website that they weren’t exactly sure what it was, but they’d had a few jokes, Miller reminded him a bit of Dean, she was quite sarcastic, but she was also funny and clever. She was also very hot, which kind of distracted him slightly, made him forget about Derek for a few moments, okay, it wasn’t like he’d ever have a chance with her, but she wasn’t that much older than him, and she was beautiful, even though she looked to be running herself into the ground on this case. 

She’d still spent the time with Stiles, made him think that what he had to say was actually worth something. Which was more than anyone else at the moment. He was allowed a schoolboy crush right? That’s all it was, it wasn’t like he actually wanted to date her or be with her or fall in love with her. Not when Derek occupied all of his thoughts no matter how hard he tried to forget about him. Stiles just liked her, got on with her. She was good, she wanted to help people. He was sure of that much. 

Maybe she would notice he was gone if he didn’t turn up at the station for a day or two. As it was, if his dad went home, and that was a big if, and Stiles wasn’t there, his dad would just assume that he was with the pack. 

Scott had told him he didn’t want him around while this new threat was there, so the pack probably wouldn’t be missing him either. 

He felt like crying, did anyone know he was gone? How would they find him if they didn’t know he was even missing? His best bet at someone finding him was for a deputy at the station who he’d known only a matter of weeks to mention that Stiles hadn’t been around for a few days. That was it. And, really, why would she care? Not when his own family and friends didn’t even want him around? She’d probably be grateful that he wasn’t showing up and annoying her all the time.

“It’ll be alright.” Leo said suddenly, as if picking up on Stiles’ distress. “We’ll get out of here Stiles. I promise you.”

Stiles nodded, but he wasn’t sure that he believed Leo. Suddenly he felt very alone. The only people that would probably notice he was gone were the ones that were down here with him, which just made of him think of Sam and Dean all over again, it made the urge not to cry even harder, he knew crying wouldn’t help, not really, but, god he hurt, his head ached, he could feel his pulse beating behind his ear, he was tired, he was scared, and he was terrified that nobody would be bothered to even look for him.

Stiles knew he was forgetting something; that his brain had thought of something else important in the ring, but it was lost in the buzzing of his pain, he just wished he could remember what it was he thought he knew.

 

“Alright, so we know they are kidnapping people and making them fight, but why take a werewolf? I mean Leo could beat any of them easily, it wouldn’t make a fair fight, so why take a wolf?” Percy’s words were met with silence.

He looked around the room at the tear stained faces, smelling the waves of fear and sorrow that they were all emitting. It wasn’t just his pack that were worried, Scott’s pack were truly terrified, falling apart at what they knew was happening to their pack mate, they needed to find them both, Leo and Stiles, before everyone fell to pieces.

“Does it matter?” Percy turned in confusion as it was Jason that was speaking. “Does it matter why they have him? They have him and however many other people. And they are hurting them. For fun. We need to get them out of there.” Jason said vehemently.

The room was silent in their agreement, except none of them knew where to go from here. They had no idea where to even start, and Percy couldn’t help as his eyes kept straying back to the screen at the end of the room. He didn’t want to see Leo. He couldn’t face seeing Leo getting hurt, but he needed to see him, needed to know he was in one piece. He sighed heavily, glancing across at Scott. He had no idea how to deal with the fact that there was another Alpha here. He pretended not to notice the way Malia was shaking as she had watched Stiles fight. Her hands trembling. He saw Scott looking at her too, could sense the worry from the alpha.

Percy hadn’t been an Alpha long, and their previous Alpha hadn’t exactly been a nice guy. Hence why Percy had ended up having to kill him. It hadn’t been like he wanted to do it, but when the guy had attacked Jason, beaten him to within an inch of his life, and then threatened to do the same to Frank and Leo, well, Percy hadn’t been able to stand it anymore. He’d defended his brothers, he’d killed their Alpha, barely managing to stay alive himself, and now he was one. Except he didn’t know what he was doing nine times out of ten. He wasn’t some True Alpha like Scott, hell, he hadn’t even been able to protect Leo. He hated being Alpha, and yeah, sure, he didn’t want to go back to how things had been before, but he hated feeling like everything was out of his control all the time.

“Well, the only thing we can do is try and track Stiles’ scent. Maybe we can find them that way. Sitting here isn’t going to help. We’ll try and track him down. Sheriff, will you call us if you get anything on their location?” Scott said, trying to sound confident but it was obvious to all of them that he wasn’t sure on this plan either, that he relied so heavily on Stiles, that, without him, everything he thought of just sounded ridiculous.

Noah nodded in agreement to Scott’s plan but his eyes tracking back to the screen again. Percy thought it sucked as a plan, but it was the only plan they had so he nodded.

“We’ll come with you. Maybe we’ll get Leo’s scent.” Percy said hopefully, as if they hadn’t been searching for that for the past week without finding any trace. Frank and Jason nodded behind him and Scott glanced at the three of them, almost gratefully.

“Okay. Come on them.” He headed to the door, the rest of his pack following after him, Percy didn’t miss the way Peter reached out to touch Malia’s shoulder, which was still shaking slightly, and she turned to look at the older man in confusion. 

“Stiles is your anchor. Focus on him. Remember your humanity. You can’t help him if you lose yourself.” Peter tried to reassure her and Malia nodded, looking shaken but solemn. Percy tried not to be surprised that Stiles was Malia’s anchor, no wonder the girl looked so unsteady, it was why he made sure his anchor wasn’t one person, in case things like this happened. He knew that was a morbid way of thinking of things, but, it was better to think like that then lose your anchor and end up a monster. Percy turned back to the Sheriff, seeing the haunted look in his eyes.

“We’ll find him Sir.” Percy said, hoping that it wasn’t a lie.

 

Stiles returned to consciousness slowly, his head still felt like it was going to explode, his whole body throbbed with pain, he tried to move but let out a small whimper when it felt like he’d been hit by a bus. He wasn’t sure what had woken him up at first but then he heard it again, Leo was shouting, screaming almost, and he sounded angry.

“I said get away from him you bitch!” Leo shouted again and Stiles opened his eyes to look up at a woman standing outside of his cage, a feral grin on her lips. 

“Aren’t you a pretty little one?” She smirked, running her fingers along the edge of the cage. Leo was practically growling in the cage next to him and Stiles glanced across to see him, he looked like crap, white under his tan, exhaustion evidence in his features, barely having enough strength to keep himself even half upright. 

Stiles looked back at the woman, she was sure she had something to do with why Leo looked like crap and he snarled at her, it obviously wasn’t very effective though because she just laughed. Stiles wished, not for the first time, that he could sound of threatening as Derek did when he growled. 

“Come now boy, I’ve had enough of that from the wolf.” She mocked, Stiles’ eyes widened as her words registered, Leo was a werewolf, of course he was a goddamn werewolf! “But, you,” She continued, “You are something else altogether, aren’t you?” She clicked her fingers and the guards approached. “I want this one for the next few hours at least.” She ordered and the guards rushed forward, ready to fulfil her slightest 

Stiles was grabbed roughly from the cage, trying not to wince as his body was pulled out of his cage and his cuts and bruises flared up. He tired to take in his surroundings, but his vision swam unsteadily as he tried to adjust to the fact that he was now upright. He recognized now that he wasn’t in a room, he was in a cave, the high ceiling, the rock walls, the way the screams echoed, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized it before. 

The guards held him tightly as the woman strolled ahead of them. He was dragged through the other rooms of cages again, fear in his eyes as he saw both Sam and Dean were unconscious, he prayed that they were both still breathing as he was dragged past the fire and into a smaller cave with a few candles littered about, meaning it wasn’t completely black like the dark room had been, but, it wasn’t far off. 

He was shoved down onto a large sturdy oak table, his wrists and ankles chained to each corner of it, he shouted and shoved and fought as the guards tied him down but he couldn’t fight them off. The guards left as soon as he was tied in place, slamming a large wooden door behind them and then suddenly there was silence. 

Stiles glared at the woman in front of him. He wasn’t sure what she was, if she was supernatural of some kind, she obviously knew about the supernatural if she knew Leo was a werewolf, so he had to assume she was dangerous, it was like he could feel the aura of danger surrounding her. She grinned again, flashing her teeth.

“You are adorable when you glare like that.” She smiled approaching him. Stiles was at a loss for words. First time for everything he figured.

“What do you want?” He said eventually, the words torn from his sore throat. 

“That’s simple Stiles. I want to help you.” She replied, whatever he’d been expecting her to say it wasn’t that. She came closer, her eyes flashing bright green, she rested her hand flat against his stomach, her fingers spread wide, Stiles lifted his head from the table so that he could look down at where her hand rested and she must have been able to sense his nervousness, “Don’t worry, by the time we’re done you’ll be begging me to touch you.” She smiled happily, that was around the time that Stiles realized she was actually insane.

“Look, I don’t know what you are, but my friends are going to be looking for me. They’re going to find me. My best friend is a True Alpha. You might as well leave now, before the rescue starts and you get hurt.” He said, hoping to frighten her. Instead she dug her fingers in to the tender flesh of his stomach and he screamed as pain overwhelmed him, it didn’t feel like fingertips digging into him, it felt like fire, like burning hot knives being stabbed in to him. She let go a moment later, a grin still on her lips. 

“You think Scott McCall will be any match for me? I’m a very powerful witch Stiles. He couldn’t take me even with the whole pack behind him.” She let the information sink in. “But, that would imply that he was looking for you. Which he’s not. They don’t even know you are missing Stiles. And even if they did, I don’t know that they would care.” 

“Look lady,” Stiles interrupted, not wanting to hear her voice his own thoughts, “I’m going to call you Elphaba, you know because of the whole wicked witch of Oz thing.” He grinned at her, “I guess it’s pretty obvious that you like the sound of you own voice. I get that. But please don’t waste your breath on me. I’m pretty good at selective hearing. I’m just going to tune you out. Maybe listen to some music in my head.” He hated the fact that she still smiled serenely at him before digging her fingers back into his stomach and his whole body tensed in pain, he couldn’t help but scream, the agony almost overwhelming.

“You don’t have to listen to me. I’ll show you.” She said sweetly before pressing her hands against either side of his head and the burning started in a whole new way, Stiles screamed, pulling against the chains as much as he could, trying to free himself, trying to pull away from where she touched him, he failed miserably. She dug her fingers in harder, deeper, and Stiles blacked out.

When he opened his eyes again he was stood in the station, he looked around, he could see Miller sat at her desk, studying something seriously on the computer. 

“Miller.” His father’s voice came from behind him, Stiles turned around; feeling a cold rush as his father walked right through him. Elphaba was stood next to him smiling.

“They can’t see or hear you. But this is what’s happening there, right now, right this second. They aren’t bothered about you.” She said victoriously.

Stiles glared at her, she was idiotic if that’s what she thought. Stiles knew they cared about him, even if he was a pain sometimes, they would still come for him if they knew he was missing right?

“Sheriff? You okay?” Miller replied.

“Yeah, sure, just wondering how you’re going on with the missing person’s case?” Noah asked.

“I’m still working on it, Sir.” She said seriously and his dad nodded.

“Good, well keep at it. We’ll crack it I’m sure.” He said confidently.

“Yeah, definitely. It’ll be easier now Stiles isn’t slowing me down.” She looked up suddenly as if realising what she’d said, a faint blush on her cheeks, as she winced apologetically. “Sorry, Sir, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just, you know, he wasn’t overly helpful.” She said awkwardly.

“Don’t worry about it.” Noah said, brushing her apology away. “I know what a hyperactive little bastard my kid can be. I’m just glad you managed to keep him occupied for a couple of hours. It meant that we could actually get some work done.” He sighed heavily, weighing up his next words, “It’s not that I don’t care for the kid, I do, but he doesn’t make it easy. He’s a pain in the ass, he’s always getting in the way at crime scenes, always spouting out random crap that doesn’t make any sense, doesn’t help and is just…irritating for lack of a better word. Just, I feel an awful person for thinking it, but sometimes, it would be so much easier if he wasn’t around.” Noah admitted, Stiles couldn’t help the tears forming in his eyes, but he stood defiantly, unwilling to let the witch see how much his dad’s words had torn through him, it felt like someone had carved a hole into his chest, like they’d ripped away something vital, was that what his dad really thought of him? That he was irritating? Annoying? That it would be easier if Stiles wasn’t around? He swallowed down the hurt, trying instead to glare at the witch, he didn’t know that it had any kind of effect though.

“Alright, shall we see what the pack and Scott are up to?” Elphaba said excitedly, a grin on her lips before everything went black again.

Stiles was stood in Scott’s kitchen, he could hear voices in the other room and he followed them through into the living room. The entire pack were there, Scott, Lydia, Liam, Cora, Isaac, Peter, Erica, Boyd, Allison and Malia were all piled in on the couches, bowls of popcorn, watching a film on the television. It was night outside, he’d been gone a few hours at least, although he reckoned it was more like a day and a half. 

“I’m glad that it wasn’t that big of a threat.” Malia said slowly, watching the film, reaching for more popcorn absentmindedly. 

“Yeah me too.” Lydia said, “And it definitely could have ended differently.” She said cryptically while Isaac laughed brightly.

“Could you imagine if Stiles had been there?” Erica laughed, the others grinning slightly, “He would have started running his mouth as usual, probably got them to attack us.” 

“He doesn’t mean to get us into trouble. He just doesn’t know when to shut up sometimes.” Scott grimaced, trying to defend his best friend to his pack. Stiles felt his heart sink as Allison looked to Scott, shaking her head in bemusement.

“Sometimes? Scott, come on, I know he’s your best friend and everything, but he’s always getting into some kind of trouble. Always getting us into some kind of trouble. We’ve yet to have one situation where Stiles hasn’t made it worse.” Allison said and Scott was silent for a moment, obviously trying to think of an example where this wasn’t the case. 

“Yeah I guess so.” He admitted quietly before he put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her in to his side, pressing a kiss to her temple as they went back to watching the film.

Stiles couldn’t stop the tears running freely down his face now. He had thought all of this, a thousand times over, he knew he wasn’t good enough, he knew he was a pain in the ass, knew that he caused too much trouble. But to hear his friends agree with every negative thought he’d ever had, well, it broke his heart. 

He opened his eyes and he was back on the table in the cave. Elphaba was looking at him, with something he guessed was supposed to be concern on her face, but he knew it wasn’t. He glared at her, he didn’t care what she showed him, whatever she was trying to achieve, he wasn’t going to play ball.

“Right, and your point was?” He spat angrily. She reached out to touch his face and he flinched away from her certain that more pain was about to come, instead she leaned over him, pressing her hand against his cheek, her other lifting his t-shirt gently and pressing against the flat panels of his stomach.

“My point, Stiles, is that they don’t care. They’re glad you’re gone. Why do you have loyalty to people who have no loyalty to you?” She whispered almost softly, like a caress, Stiles just screwed his eyes shut, he would not look at her, would not give her whatever she was looking for. It was like she wanted to see him break, well, he wouldn’t. He didn’t have an answer for her, but it wasn’t in his nature to stay quiet. 

“They’re my family. We don’t have to like each other. I’m always going to be loyal to them. It’s called having a heart. You wouldn’t know what that is, I’m sure. To you it’s probably just a gaping hole in your chest.” Stiles retorted sarcastically.

He hadn’t really expected the slap across the cheek that split his lip open, he had however, expected the digging in of her fingers and the pain that radiated through his body, making him arch his back in agony as he tried to pull away from the pain, tried to escape it, a hoarse scream being pulled from his throat before everything faded to black.

 

Derek saw the Stilinski house come in to view, he didn’t care that he was exhausted, that he’d been running for the past two days straight, all that mattered was making sure Stiles was okay, he shifted back to his human form, stealing a pair of joggers from one of the neighbours washing lines to at least hide some of his modesty and then grabbed the lowest branch of the tree next to Stiles’ window, climbing it easily and opening the window to Stiles’ room. 

He was hit with Stiles’ scent instantly and his wolf quietened instantly, content now that they had finally been able to smell Stiles again, it was something that Derek had never been able to replicate, something that was purely Stiles. It worried him that Stiles’ scent was at least three days old though, he wondered if perhaps Stiles was staying at Scott’s house, he hoped Stiles wouldn’t mind when he grabbed one of his t-shirts and threw it on before jumping back out of the window and heading in the direction of Scott’s house. 

He really didn’t expect to find the McCall’s house empty, especially when it stank of the entire pack, it was obvious they’d all been here, recently, and yet Stiles’ scent wasn’t fresh here either. Derek began to panic, it was a few days old, so? That didn’t mean anything, maybe Stiles had gone away for the weekend with his dad or something. He decided that he’d go to the station and see if he could spot Noah, then he could plan where else to go from there. 

What he didn’t expect when he arrived outside was to smell that the entire pack, along with a few other unknown wolves, had been in and out of the station in the last few days, that several of them were still there if the scent was anything to go by, that they all smelled of worry, of fear, and, still, there was no scent of Stiles. Derek felt fear flood through him. Something was really wrong here.

 

It had been nearly forty-eight hours since Noah had first seen Stiles on the screen and nothing had changed. The wolves were all running themselves ragged trying to track Stiles and Leo. Noah had seen most of the missing people appear to fight at least once. He’d seen Sam, although he wished he hadn’t, the boy barely managing to get to his feet before a brutal punch knocked him back to the ground. Sam looked bad. Really bad. On the verge of dying bad. He had cried again after watching that. Dean had fought a few times, seeming to be holding up better than Sam but only marginally, he had been electrocuted and dragged from the cage after winning his fight. Apparently, it was the standard procedure for the winners who didn't want to go back to their cages.

The wolves were currently back in the meeting room at the station. They all looked exhausted, but they had found nothing. Deputy Miller had come in an hour ago filling him in on the little information she had managed to gather. 

It had obviously not been enough to settle Malia who had been on edge since seeing Stiles, she’d lost control for a moment, her blue eyes flashing at Miller.

“It’s not enough! Don’t you get it? Stiles is missing and you aren’t doing enough to find him!” Malia shouted in anger.

Noah had stopped Claire from drawing her weapon, which wouldn’t have helped the situation, and now she was sitting in a chair at the table, trying to absorb the fact that werewolves were real. 

There was another fight going on up on the screen, two men, evenly matched, beating each other to a pulp. Malia glanced up at the screen suddenly, and Noah could practically see her ears twitching.

“Stiles.” She breathed. The other wolves looked at the screen then, obviously hearing something that he couldn’t. 

“What’s happening?” Noah demanded, noticing that Lydia and Allison were both watching with anticipation.

“He’s screaming.” Malia said quietly, her eyes flashing again, her claws scratching the table as she gripped it tightly to try and keep control. “They’re torturing him.” She said quietly.

The room was silent, Noah never feeling so helpless in his life. He needed to find Stiles. He needed to know that he was alive, that he was okay. He needed his son. The last thing he expected was the door to suddenly bang open and a very bedraggled Derek Hale burst in to the meeting room, his eyes going first to the pack, then to the screen on the far wall, it was obvious that he could hear the screaming, even if he couldn’t see him. 

“Stiles!” Derek said, moving towards the screen, ignoring the rest of the pack, trying to make sense of what he was looking at, “Where is he? What’s going on?” Derek asked shortly. 

“And hello to you to dear nephew.” Peter commented, Derek turned and snarled at him, his eyes flashing golden for a brief second before he managed to get himself under control. 

“Where. Is. Stiles.” He snapped through gritted teeth, Stiles’ screams still ringing in his ears. Stiles was being hurt, he needed to get to him, be with him, stop it. 

“We don’t know.” Scott admitted and Derek looked ready to lunge for him. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” He growled, taking in the other wolves in the room, “Do they have something to do with this? Did you take him?” Derek moved towards Percy who jumped up from his chair, flashing red eyes at Derek and snarling, Derek wasn’t phased in the least, if he had to fight an Alpha to get to Stiles then he would do. 

“Derek! Calm down!” Cora said, jumping in between them and putting her hand on Derek’s chest to keep him in place, “Percy didn’t do this! None of them did! Whoever took Stiles, took a member of their pack too.” 

“Where is he? What leads do you have? Where have you looked? How long has he been gone?” Derek quizzed. 

“He’s been missing nearly three days, we have the video link that you can see behind you.” Miller interrupted, trying to calm the situation down by providing the facts, “Stiles called it a fight club and that’s basically what it is, betting on your favourites, choosing who to fight next etc. We don’t have any leads other than that, other than it is somewhere fairly close to Beacon Hills, going from where all the victims have been taken from. The packs have been searching the preserve but they’ve found nothing yet and we have all the deputies from surrounding areas keeping an eyes out for anything that looks like it might meet the criteria.” She explained. 

“So you have nothing.” Derek snapped. “And Stiles is being hurt.” He said again, almost shaking with rage, “How did this happen? How did they take him?”

“We don’t know.” Scott admitted. “We…Stiles…I told him that…we weren’t there.” Scott finished lamely and Derek moved forward instantly, grabbing Scott by the shirt collar and slamming him in to the wall. 

“What the hell do you mean ‘you weren’t there’!?” He growled dangerously, his teeth elongating and his claws threatening to tear Scott’s shirt. 

“I mean…I fucked up Derek. Okay!? I fucked up and I was trying to protect him! I was trying to keep him safe. Except I said something bad and Stiles left. He left my house and the next time I see him, it’s in that fucking ring, fighting some guy twice his size, still spitting out sarcastic comments like it’s just another day even when he’d been beaten up! What the fuck can I say? You think I don’t already know this is my fault!? That everything that is happening to him is all on me!?” Scott ranted, Derek glared at him, breathing heavily for a moment before he finally let go of Scott and took a step backwards. 

“I’m going to go find him.” He said, his heart racing uncomfortably fast, he’d left Stiles with the pack and he’d thought he’d be safe and now…god, he couldn’t even think about it. 

“I’m coming with you and we’re going to find him, together.” Malia said, hurrying after Derek as he strode out of the room in determination. Scott glanced at Noah and Percy apologetically before shrugging and rushing after both of them, the rest of the pack only a step behind. 

“This isn’t getting us anywhere.” Lydia said sadly, sure Derek was back, but, it wasn’t like he was going to miraculously find Stiles’ scent when the rest of them hadn’t had any luck.

Noah couldn’t help but nod his head in agreement. It wasn’t getting them anywhere and somewhere out there his son was being tortured.

 

Dean had been woken by the sound of someone screaming. It took him a moment to realise it was Stiles, knowing the sound of his hoarse screaming from far too much experience. He called out for him, knowing that it was useless, knowing that he was useless, his body was crying out in pain, desperate to rest, to heal, but Dean couldn’t think about that, all he could think was that he was too weak to break free, and his cousin was paying the price for it. It was a little while later when Stiles was dragged unconscious back past Dean’s cage, he’d seen the blonde woman following Stiles and called out to her.

“Hey! Blondie! What have you done to him you bitch?” Dean growled. She turned to look at him with surprise written across her face. She looked gleefully at Dean, her face lighting up with excitement, a sure sign that she was insane, nobody should look that excited, that happy, in a place like this.

“I hear from my brother that you are quite a handful in the ring, aren’t you?” She said, observing him before glancing back to Stiles and then back to Dean, “It’s a shame that you just aren’t quite what I’m after, you don’t have the right,” she pondered over her wording for a moment, “You don’t have the right spark I guess, not like your cousin here, although, it’s so much more fun when he’s conscious.” She smirked before turning away and following behind Stiles again. 

Dean rammed his shoulder into the bars as she continued to walk away, determined to break out of the cage, to get to Stiles, to find Sam, to get out of here. 

“Come back you crazy bitch! Let me show you just how much of a handful I can be!” He screamed but she ignored him, not even looking back in his direction as she rounded a corner and disappeared from view. Dean took in his surroundings, trying to see if there was any way to break out of this god forsaken cage when he froze, staring at Sam who was lying motionless in the cage opposite him. “Sam!” He called out, desperate to see some movement from his brother. “Sammy!” He called again, his voice breaking in terror, Sam couldn’t be dead, he couldn’t be. 

When there was still no movement from his brother, Dean shifted in his cage, not caring that at least a few of his ribs were broken, that his wrist was definitely broken, that he was covered in blood and sweat. He manoeuvred around until he’d managed to position himself so that he could kick out and smash his feet into the bars, hoping to break the lock off. He managed a few attempts and the bars rattled almost hopefully before the guards appeared, moving towards him, the cattle prods already out. Dean continued to scream for Sam, begging him to wake up, before the cattle prods did the job they were supposed to do and everything went red with pain before fading to black.

 

Claire looked around the room in front of her, looking at the weary face of the Sheriff, the emotionless mask of the banshee, the looks of fear on the various werewolves faces, even the latest addition, Derek, she wasn’t going to deny he was gorgeous, even if he’d looked exhausted when he’d arrived. Claire would have never thought that the supernatural would be real, that she’d be sat in a room with supernatural creatures. Last night, once the pack had returned with disappointment etched in their features and exhaustion pouring off them in waves, she’d gone home and grabbed a couple of hours sleep, had a quick shower and then she had come back at work, trying to figure out the next step. 

She knew she didn’t have a right to be upset, she’d only met Stiles a few times, but there was something about the kid. He was smart, scarily so, he could figure anything out when he put his mind to it. He was sarcastic, always the smartass. He was loyal, the way he had talked about his dad showed just how loyal he was, how much he cared, and now that she knew about the supernatural, she sensed he’d been even more loyal than she’d given him credit for. It was no wonder they were all so torn up about him being kidnapped, she completely understood, she knew it had to be hard on them, because it was hard on her and she didn’t know Stiles nearly as well as them. 

She’d spent a few hours with Stiles last week, before all of this, him helping her with the case, and she’d actually relaxed, he’d put her at ease with his endless chattering, she’d smiled more than she had in the weeks previous. He was a good kid and she felt like they’d be great friends one day.

She cared for him, not as much as his family or his friends, but she did care about him, despised the fact that he was being hurt right now and there was nothing she could do about it. She was determined to figure this out, find him, save him. She wouldn’t lose him. 

“So, I might be wrong here, and it probably wouldn’t work, but if you’re a banshee,” She paused, locking eyes with Lydia, “Can’t you tell when somebody is about to die?” 

“Yes.” Lydia said, her voice full of irritation, “But since Stiles isn’t about to die, I can’t find him!” She said, her voice tight.

“Right, I get that, yeah, but could you not, erm, track somebody else?” Claire persisted.

“Like who?” Noah asked

“Well, Sir, I hate to say it, but your nephew isn’t looking too hot, if he’s doing badly, then maybe, and I don’t get this supernatural stuff so I’m probably wrong, but couldn’t Lydia try and find them through Sam?” She suggested and Lydia sighed with irritation. 

“Sam might be looking like crap but he’s not about to die. Not immediately anyway. Not in the next few hours.” She said her voice trailing off. 

“Oh, right, okay. So, not that plan.” Claire muttered, not knowing how to answer that. She went to her next plan, “And you guys can’t get any kind of scent on them?” She said looking to the wolves. 

“No. They’ve got a witch on their side. They could be right under our noses and we wouldn’t know they were there.” Frank shook his head sadly, “She’s hidden their scents, their heartbeats, any noise or smell or anything that might give away their presence, we can’t find them.”

“Right. Witches.” Claire said feeling stupid. 

“It’s a lot to take in.” Scott said sympathetically, looking up at her, “We’re doing everything we can, but we can’t find him.” His voice breaking at the thought of Stiles. “Like Frank said, he could be right under our noses.” The conversation trailed off. 

“We aren’t giving up on him.” Derek snarled before shifting into his wolf and running out of the room, Claire had stared after him in astonishment, she’d not seen any of the others do that. 

“Wow. I didn’t know you had anyone who could do a full shift.” Jason muttered and Scott shrugged. 

“Malia can do it too, but, with her anchor being…unstable…at the moment, it’s probably best she doesn’t shift.” Scott advised and Malia glared at him for a second before following after Derek. 

“Is it not that common?” Claire asked. 

“Not really,” Peter said, “Several members of our old pack used to be able to do it, but, it takes time, patience and a sense of complete and utter understanding with your wolf to be able to shift easily between your two forms. Derek is still new to this, he’s only been doing it a matter of months, but, he’s obviously mastered it.” 

“Right.” Claire agreed, thinking back to how one moment it had been a man stood in front of her, and the next, there was a large black wolf in his place. 

It wasn’t long before they went out searching again, not all of them left though, Claire had noticed that there was always at least one wolf in the room, listening to things she couldn’t hear in the background of the video stream. She could always tell when Stiles started screaming again, the wolf that was listening would tense up, claws digging in to the table in front of them, she frowned when she realised that the table had more claw marks than undamaged sections now. Claire didn’t know that it was doing any of them any favours, even now she could see Erica twitching as she listened to Stiles screaming. Claire hated herself for not being able to do more, for having to see them suffering through this and not be able to help them. 

 

Stiles had been sat in this cage for god only knew how long, he hadn’t been able to see Leo, and his newest neighbour wasn’t nearly as friendly. He looked like he wanted to kill Stiles. Stiles had tried to start a conversation with the guy a few times but all he’d got were growls in return, when Stiles had asked him if he was a werewolf the guy had told him to go fuck himself, and then he’d been warned to watch his back in the ring or the guy would do all the fucking for him. Stiles had paled a little at that thought and then remained silent. 

He didn’t want to admit it, but he was bored. Yes, he shouldn’t say that when every movement sent spirals of pain through his body, but he was used to motion, he needed to move, and right now he didn’t even have enough space to stand upright, not that he really had the energy. But he felt so restricted, so claustrophobic, so contained, he hated not being able to move, not being able to do something about this. He always had a plan, he just couldn’t think straight yet. All he could think about when he closed his eyes were the images of what the witch had shown him, that his dad and his friends all thought they were better off without him. 

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the guards appeared at the front of his cage again, for the first time he thought he would rather fight than go back to the witch. He struggled against them half-heartedly, hoping that they would take him left towards the fighting cage. He heard a voice calling his name, but it sounded like it was far away, his head felt fuzzy, he couldn’t’ breathe. They turned right towards Elphaba’s room and that was enough to throw him into a full-blown panic attack. He fought with everything he had, breaking free from one of the guards before he was tackled again, and he crashed down to the floor hard. The guards dragged him into the room and chained him to the table before leaving him alone and Stiles tried to get his breathing under control, tried to calm himself down so that he could at least breathe normally. Except, a few minutes later the door opened and Elphaba came in, her sick smile already in place, and Stiles felt his heart catch in his throat, he was so scared, so completely and utterly terrified of being in that amount of pain again. 

“Hello Stiles. How are you feeling today?” She smirked and Stiles rolled his eyes. Stupid witches. She pulled out a knife and the corners of her mouth twitched upwards when Stiles instantly tensed, the chains clinking slightly as he pulled on them in fear. “Don’t worry Stiles. If you behave, I won’t have to use it.” She said simply, stabbing it into the table next to his head. He couldn’t help but think how easy it would be for her to plunge it into him next time.

“What do you want Elphaba?” He said eventually, his throat sore from screaming but still unable to resist his usual sarcasm, she was going to kill him eventually, he was sure of that much, but there was no way in hell he was going out like a coward. He might not be able to escape, but he would give her as much attitude as he could before he went. 

“Well, firstly, my name is Catherine, not Elphaba, and I’d appreciate it if you started calling me that.” Catherine said and Stiles tried not to laugh, the woman was certified crazy. 

“Sure thing Cathy, or do you prefer Cat? Hmm, maybe not, you don’t look much like a cat, more like a dog, you know, because you’re a bitch.” He said, the words spewing from his mouth before he could stop himself, not that he would even if he could.

She gripped the knife tightly and placed it against his stomach so he could feel the coldness of the blade against his bare skin. He hated the fact that his breathing hitched, that she would be able to see he was afraid. She smirked at him and Stiles glared at her, tensing when she suddenly grabbed the hem of his shirt and cut it open so that after a few more slices he was shirtless. She slid her hand over his chest and he couldn’t help but feel panicked. 

“Hands off the merchandise lady.” He growled. She merely smiled in return, spreading her hand out as she had done before and digging her fingers into his skin. He knew what was about to happen, but knowing it didn’t make the pain any more bearable, it was white-hot, burning, stabbing, agony that made his scream even though he tried not to, that made his vision turn almost red at times, that made him pull uselessly on the chains so that they cut into his skin but it wasn’t a conscious choice, he couldn’t stop himself, anything to attempt to escape the pain, to make it stop. He gritted his teeth, determined that she wouldn’t know how much it was hurting him. After a moment the pain left him and he opened his eyes, not realising that he had shut them at some point, Catherine was leaning over him, smirking at him as she reached out to touch his chest, his neck, his jaw, Stiles felt revolted by her touch, he would be quite happy if she never touched him again. 

“Shall we check in with your family again?” She grinned, without further hesitation, and not waiting for a reply, she put her hands on either side of his face and everything went black for a second, when things reappeared Stiles could see that he was stood back in his own home.

His dad was sat on one chair, Scott, and the rest of the pack spread out across the other chairs in the room, some of them even sitting comfortably on the floor.

“So, he hasn’t been with you then?” His dad said, only weariness in his voice.

“No. We’ve had more important things to do than deal with Stiles’ mood swings.” Cora said firmly, not nastily, just stating the obvious as she always did.

“When did you last see him?” Hid dad asked again.

“Saturday.” Scott replied.

His dad let out a deep breath, pondering over the information before eventually speaking, “We’d had an argument too. He probably just needs some space for a bit. You know what he’s like when he’s in a mood. He’ll calm down eventually.”

“It has been three days though. I didn’t think Stiles could sulk for that long.” Liam said.

“Yeah, well he can be a stubborn shit at times.” Noah replied.

“You think you should put him as one of the missing people?” Boyd asked, his voice devoid of emotion, like he didn’t care one way or the other.

“No.” His dad said eventually. “This case is big enough without adding Stiles to the list of the missing. He’ll be sulking somewhere waiting for one of us to go running to him. And if that’s not the case and he is somehow wrapped up in all of this, which, who knows? It wouldn’t exactly surprise me, then I don’t know.” Noah sighed heavily. 

“Well, we won’t be going chasing after him then. He can come back when he’s calmed down and then we can tell him that he won’t be part of the pack anymore.” Scott said quietly.

“What?” Stiles spluttered, knowing that they couldn’t hear him.

“Alright, I can’t say I blame you. He’s hard work. Has been even harder work since all this supernatural crap started happening. He thinks he knows everything, and he doesn’t, and all it does it get people killed. Sometimes I don’t even recognize him as my son anymore.” Noah said, tears welling up in his eyes. 

Peter put a comforting hand on Noah’s shoulder but all Stiles could do was to stand there and watch the scene unfold. They were going to kick him out of the pack, his father didn’t want anything to do with him.

The tears were sliding down his cheeks as he opened his eyes again, Catherine was stood looking at him, an odd amusement on her face. 

“Fuck you.” He said, knowing that his voice didn’t carry the usual defiance. She smiled again, placing her hand back on his stomach and then filling his world with pain. 

When he stopped screaming, he gazed back at her, trying to figure out what she wanted, why she seemed so determined to destroy him. 

“Fine, I get it, my dad doesn’t want me around, my friends don’t want me around. I get it. You don’t need to tell me again. But I came here for my cousins, and I’m not letting you hurt them. I will fight you with everything I have to protect them.” He said, trying to control his breathing as she played with the knife against his skin.

“I’m sure you will. But they wouldn’t do the same for you.” She said mysteriously before disappearing through the door.

 

Dean glared up at the woman outside of his cage. He’d seen Stiles being dragged back into her room, he’d called out to him but Stiles hadn’t seem to register Dean’s voice, he’d obviously been terrified, hurt and confused, Dean saw how much effort Stiles had put into getting free, trying to escape the guards and he knew that nothing good would await Stiles in there. 

But now she was out here, looking at Dean in puzzlement. 

“What do you want bitch?” He said, not caring about what punishment might befall him. She grinned evilly at him before motioning for the guards to get him from his cage. As soon as he was upright the woman placed her fingertips against his temples. He felt a shudder run through him, heard the echo of a laugh in his brain and he cursed, a fucking witch was running around in his brain, fucking brilliant!

He was dragged towards the room, whatever he had expected it wasn’t to see Stiles chained up a table, bruises and cuts covering most of his body and what looked like a handprint burned across his stomach. But what hurt the most was the look of despair in his eyes, he looked heart broken. Dean wanted to go to him, comfort him, whatever he needed to make sure that Stiles would be okay. But he found himself held in place by the guards.

“Leave him alone.” Stiles said, his voice shaky.

“I’m not going to hurt him.” The witch said. “I just want to ask him a few questions.” She grinned, smirking at Dean as he tried to curse at her but he found he couldn’t get the words out of his throat.

“Catherine.” Stiles said quietly, “Please, leave him alone.” Stiles practically begged, Dean hated how wrecked Stiles sounded, he wasn’t holding up well. Dean would take his place in a second, anything to protect his cousin. He wanted to tell him that it would be okay. That he’d find a way to get them all out of here, but again, the words dried up before getting out of his mouth, he couldn’t speak, couldn’t say a word no matter how badly he wanted to.

“Dean isn’t it?” Catherine asked mockingly and Dean nodded, seemingly unable to speak, all he could do was glare at her as she approached him. “I’m going to put a spell on you. A truth spell. You won’t be able to say anything except the truth.” He continued to glare at her, it was all he could do. She’d already put some kind of spell on him, he didn’t know what she’d done, but, if she wanted the truth, he was going to give her a hell of a lot more truth than she could handle. She turned to look at Stiles, “See, I promise Stiles. It won’t hurt him.” She said reassuringly as she reached out and pressed her fingers against Dean’s forehead again and Dean heard her laugh louder, clearer this time, like she was running around inside in his head and there was nothing he could do about it.

He knew for a fact that she was controlling him, he knew he wouldn’t be able to speak a god damn word that she didn’t want him to speak. He growled at her but she just smiled back at him, seemingly pleased with her level of her manipulation. 

“Dean, Stiles here thinks that you’d do anything to protect him, just like he’d do anything for you and Sam. Is that right? Would you do anything for him?” She asked sweetly, smirking at him as she kept her face directed away from Stiles. Dean understood now. He understood what she wanted. She was going to hurt Stiles and she was going to use Dean to do it. He wanted to nod, agree that yes of course he would, but the words wouldn’t leave his mouth. Instead he could feel another word forming on his lips, and as much as he fought against it, he couldn’t stop his mouth from saying:

“No.” 

Catherine stood with her back to Stiles, looking at him with amusement. She had forced him to say that. Whatever she had done to him it wasn’t a truth spell. He looked to Stiles who seemed to be fighting against the tears that had formed in his eyes, Catherine turned to Stiles her lips drawn down into a frown.

“I’m really sorry to hear that Dean.” She placed her hand over the handprint on Stiles’ stomach, her hand fitting it perfectly before suddenly Stiles was arching up in pain, a scream being torn from his throat.

Dean wanted to kill her, but he couldn’t even move, he strained against her spell, every single muscle tensing as he tried to do something, anything. The anger was swelling inside him, how dare she use his words to hurt Stiles? Especially when they weren’t his words, they were hers, she used his voice but they weren’t his words, wouldn’t ever be his words, god, Stiles had to realise that, he had to. 

Eventually she removed her hand from Stiles’ stomach and Stiles blinked sluggishly, trying to register that it was over for now, trying to focus back on the here and now rather than the agony that he had just been in.

“You see Stiles, Dean wouldn’t protect you. You shouldn’t protect him.” Catherine said but Stiles just glared at her.

“Fuck you.” He said his breathing harsh, and Dean felt his heart swell with pride, yeah, that was his cousin right there. He had been amazed by Stiles’ strength since the moment he’d first met him, but, this, he couldn’t be prouder in that moment, he began to wonder if that defiance to the put of stupidity came from his mom’s side instead of his dad’s. 

“Alright, let’s try this a different way.” Catherine snapped, obviously pissed that her plan hadn’t had the effect she wanted and she turned back towards Dean, “What about something simple then? If I said you had to do something simple to protect Stiles would you do it then?” 

Of course Dean thought, but obviously that wasn’t what came out of his mouth.

“Depends on what you mean by simple.” Dean said uncertainly, obviously considering her proposal. 

“Well,” She said coming closer to him, pressing her body against his, he couldn’t help but feel repulsed, “If I were to say something like…hmmm….a kiss? One simple singular kiss, nothing more, no tricks, no twists, and I won’t ever lay another hand on Stiles, I promise to never lay a hand on your beloved cousin again, all I ask in reply is one single kiss with no catch. Would you do it then?” She offered.

Absolutely, Dean thought. 

“Not a chance.” Dean growled and Catherine grinned at him, turning back towards Stiles triumphantly.

Catherine placed her hand against Stiles’ stomach again and Dean could see the way Stiles tensed, bracing himself for what was about to happen, tears forming in his eyes as fear flooded through him. A raw, torn, hoarse scream echoed around the room as she dug her fingers in and Stiles was tortured again, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. Dean wanted to cry right along with him, instead he stood silently, unable to speak his mind, unable to move, unable to deny the accusations. He hated himself in that moment. Stiles was being hurt because of him, because he wasn’t strong enough to fight through this bitch’s spell. 

She let go of Stiles again and Dean could see the hurt in Stiles’ eyes, looking at him in confusion, in disbelief, unable to understand why Dean would be letting this happen when there was a simple way to stop it, how could he even begin to explain this? How could he ever fix this?

“Take him back to his cage now. I’m done with him.” Catherine said dismissing him. Dean managed to glance back at Stiles before the door shut and he was shoved back in to his cage. He had never felt so wretched in his life. He was fairly sure he had just hurt his cousin beyond repair, that whatever Catherine’s plans were, he’d just helped her to achieve them.

 

Stiles had lost all track of time. He had no idea how long he had been here, and he was really beginning to doubt a rescue was coming. He had fought in the ring a few more times, beating his opponents, finding a resolve of strength somewhere inside him that refused to take this lying down. Of course ,the fact that they were now making him fight shirtless just added to his determination, the fact that they all looked at him as if he was weak because he wasn’t built like almost everyone else here, because he wasn’t tall and broad and full of muscles, it just made him more determined to be strong. 

Occasionally he got to sleep in one of the cages in the room with the fire and he appreciated it because it kept the shivers at bay, if he was moved in to one of the other caves he spent the entire time shivering, his teeth chattering, his body throbbing in agony as he was unable to stop the involuntary movement. He didn’t think he would be able to appreciate anything in this god forsaken place, but, he definitely appreciated the heat of the fire that had branded him and made sure that, even if he somehow escaped, he would never forget that he was just a number.

He had seen Sam, Dean and even Leo a few times, but he never answered their voices as he was forced past their cages. How could he? He wanted to hear worry in their voices, wanted to hear concern, but he knew it wasn’t that. They didn’t care. He couldn’t let himself believe anything else, he couldn’t believe that they cared about him, because it would hurt all the more when it was proved again that they couldn’t care less. He didn’t need any more lessons from Catherine, it was obvious to him, he didn’t matter, none of them cared about him, not really, not his cousins, not his dad, not his pack. 

It didn’t matter that he knew the truth, it didn’t stop Catherine from torturing him several more times as she took so much enjoyment from it, each time showing him how his dad and the pack were managing so well without him. And they were, Stiles couldn’t deny it, they seemed to be flourishing now he wasn’t around messing things up all the time. 

“What do you want from me?” He asked, his voice breaking, he didn’t know how long he had been here. He couldn’t even tell how many times she had tortured him, his mind had just become filled with pain and despair, and something deeper, something that he couldn’t place, something like acceptance, that this was it, that he would die down here. Catherine perched on the table next to him, stroking his cheek, looking at him almost lovingly, he did his best to pull away from where her skin touched his but he failed miserably, barely doing more than turning his head in the opposite direction to her.

“I don’t want to have to keep hurting you Stiles. I want one thing from you. I want you to stop protecting your family and your friends. They don’t deserve your love.” Catherine whispered and Stiles took a moment to process her words. 

“Why?” He croaked out.

“That’s not important.” She replied. 

Stiles grimaced, knowing he was only letting himself in for more pain. But he knew what she wanted now, even if he didn’t know why, she wanted him to stop protecting them, well he wouldn’t. It didn’t matter that they wouldn’t do the same for him. That wasn’t how loyalty worked. You didn’t stop loving people just because it turns out they don’t love you. You didn’t stop caring about them. And he wasn’t going to stop protecting them, even though he wasn’t one hundred percent sure how he was protecting them exactly. 

“I won’t.” He said finally, already expecting the pain that shot through his body as she snarled at him angrily and dug her fingers into his tender flesh once more.

 

Scott had been watching the screen for the past few minutes, ever since the voice had said that Stiles would be fighting again soon. He was waiting to see the state of his best friend, wanting to know that he was still alive. 

Scott was exhausted, and considering he was a werewolf that didn’t need as much sleep as normal people and always had extra energy, that was really saying something. He was so tired he was struggling to keep his eyes open, but every time he felt them start to shut, he thought again of Stiles, his best friend, who was being tortured and beaten and the entire time Scott was useless. He couldn’t find him. The knowledge brought tears to his eyes, no matter what he did, he couldn’t find Stiles, and the last thing he had said to him was that it was Stiles’ fault that people got hurt. He had never hated himself more.

He glanced around the room, it was late at night, it had been six days since Stiles was taken and the others were having just as much trouble with all of this as he was. Noah had never looked more weary and yet his eyes were still fixed on the screen, Lydia seemed to be holding herself together pretty well until Scott breathed in her scent, it reeked of anger and fear, Liam was sleeping in his chair, the dark bruises under his eyes indicating just how exhausted he was. Erica was curled up in Boyd’s lap, both of them staring at the screen from half-lidded eyes, the desire to see Stiles the only thing keeping both of them awake. Derek was perched on the end of the table, as close to the screen as he could get without actually touching it, he’d definitely looked better. Scott wasn’t sure that Derek had slept at all since he’d arrived back in Beacon Hills, every second that he wasn’t out searching the preserve, howling desperately for Stiles as if Stiles could somehow reply, he was in here, watching the screen, watching Stiles fight with narrowed eyes, Scott was certain that Derek wanted to reach in to the screen and rip apart anyone who dared to touch Stiles, he couldn’t help but agree, he wished it was possible.

The others were all still out searching, Scott didn’t want to tell them it was useless, he was scared they were all going to run themselves into exhaustion, but when he’d suggested they take a break they had all growled at him, none of them could sit still, couldn’t sit and do nothing while Stiles was being hurt. He’d understood what they meant, couldn’t help but agree with them, but in the end his exhaustion had given in and he’d come back to the station, determined to figure out another way. 

Percy was staring at him with the same worry in his eyes, Frank had stayed out searching with the rest of Scott’s pack and Jason was resting his head on the table opposite Lydia, obviously resting up while he could. They needed a new plan. Claire had informed them an hour ago that there was no way to track where the signal was broadcasting from. They’d tried everything, they couldn’t get a location on it. They knew it was in the state but that was it, and that wasn’t really news, the wolves had figured that one out themselves. 

“We need a new plan.” Lydia said quietly to the room, her eyes never leaving the screen at the end of the table. 

“Stiles always came up with the plans.” Erica muttered quietly.

“Well, Stiles isn’t here. We need to come up with something else. Stiles is depending on us.” Lydia said firmly.

The screen suddenly announced that the fight was due to start and they all watched as both opponents were pushed into the room.

Scott had to fight to stop himself from being sick; Stiles had been shoved shirtless into the cage, his torso covered in cuts and bruises and blood, but the thing that made him so nauseous was the handprint that was burned clearly into his lower stomach. Stiles looked at the cameras and Scott felt the tears running down his cheeks, his friends eyes were not their usual vibrant whiskey brown, not full of the usual warmth, amusement, laughter, instead they were dull, dark, closed off, as if everything that made up Stiles was been slowly drained away, there was still a spark of defiance in his eyes and Scott clung onto that. Stiles hadn’t quit yet, hadn’t given up yet, if Stiles was still fighting then they had to, they had to find him. 

Derek let out a pained whimper at the sight in front of him and Scott wanted to reassure the older man but he didn’t know how, he’d had no idea that Derek cared so much about Stiles, it was obvious mow, but, he’d never given any hint he even liked Stiles, never mind that he was in love with him. Scott wondered if Stiles knew, he’d never said anything, but, then, Stiles was secretive about a lot of things that mattered to him and Scott hadn’t exactly been the best friend to him recently.

Scott watched as Stiles turned to face his opponent, throwing him a quick grin. The guy was at least twice the size of Stiles and looked to generally be in better shape, not like Stiles, who seemed to be holding himself together by sheer force of will. 

“I told you I’d fuck you up boy.” The man said grinning at Stiles.

“Actually,” Stiles said, stepping slowly around the cage and still smiling ferally at the guy, “I think the words you actually used were that you’d fuck me. Which, hey, I guess it’s a compliment, I always figured I was attractive to gay guys, even though my friend Danny said I wasn’t his type. But still, I suppose I should take the compliment that you want to fuck me, although you don’t really strike me as gay, but hey it takes all sorts to make the world go around…” Stiles rambled and Scott glanced at Derek who had let out a dangerous snarl at the evident threat to Stiles, he didn’t want to point out to Derek that there was literally nothing they could do about it from here.

“Shut your mouth!” The guy roared, lashing out a fist at Stiles which he dodged easily.

“Wow, you are so slow dude. And also, got to be honest, don’t think you really get the gay thing if you’re suggesting I shut my mouth. You know because it’s not much use then.” Stiles smirked, the guy lashed out again, and again Stiles sidestepped.

“Are you going to fight me or just talk to me until I quit?” The man asked and Stiles grinned, seemingly either oblivious or not caring that it cracked open his split lip.

“Well, I know which one I’d prefer, but I somehow have this feeling that it’s not really an option.” When the guy swung this time, Stiles ducked under his punch and landed one of his own straight to the guys jaw. He went down hard. Stiles looked to the guy on the floor and then his own fist, “Huh.” He said casually as if knocking out giants was something he did all the time. 

Scott looked around the room, eyes wide, seeing the rest of the room stare at the screen in disbelief, none of them able to process the fact that Stiles had just knocked out a man with one punch. 

Two guards entered the cage and Stiles took a step back, away from the entrance, making sure he was out of reach of their cattle prods. He watched as two of the guards dragged his opponent from the ring while the other two came for him. Stiles dogged the first cattle prod, smacked away the second and then managed to land a punch to the first guys face. He charged forward, landing on top of the guy as he went down and Stiles punched him again, only stopping when a cattle prod got him square in the back. He arched in pain and then suddenly there were three more guards dragging him off the first guard, kicking him in the stomach, the chest, the back, the legs, everywhere, as Stiles lay helpless on the floor, only managing to raise his hands to try and protect his head. 

There was so much blood and Scott couldn’t stop himself from throwing up this time. He ran from the room and to the toilets, throwing up everything he had managed to eat in the past few hours. By the time he got back to the main room the ring was empty, just a large puddle of blood on the floor. He couldn’t bring himself to look at it. Instead he looked at the tear stained faces on the people around the room. He stared at Lydia, hating what he was about to ask.

“Is he….?” He mumbled, leaving the question unfinished as Lydia turned to glare at him.

“No. He’s not close enough to death for me to feel it.” She said, hatred for her powers evident in her tone. Scott couldn’t help the sigh of relief that he let out though, heard it echo through the room as the rest of the people currently in the room processed her words and realised that although Stiles was injured, he wasn’t about to die.

 

Claire had left the station not long after the latest fight. She’d been there far too long and her body was calling out for rest. She didn’t want to, she wanted to stay until they’d cracked the case and Stiles was home, but she couldn’t. She needed to sleep, if only for an hour or two. She didn’t even make it to her bed, she locked the front door behind her and fell gracelessly into the soft couch, she was asleep before she’d even kicked her shoes off.

She woke up to the sounds of the birds singing and knew that she’d slept much longer than she wanted to. She sat up quickly, head feeling clearer than it had done in days, she rushed up the stairs and had a quick shower, finally feeling like a human again. She glanced at the pile of dirty washing that she hadn’t touched and knew she had no clean uniforms left instead she grabbed a clean t-shirt and threw on some jeans. She grabbed her badge and shoved it in her pocket, it felt wrong to be without it, she knew the Sheriff was more worried about finding Stiles than her uniform, and she needed to get back to work. She put on her hip holster and threw a jacket over it before heading back to the station.

 

Malia hated the fact that she could still sort of almost feel Stiles and yet she couldn’t use the feeling to track him down. She could barely control herself most of the time, she’d lost her anchor. She’d tried to anchor herself, tried to figure out how to control it herself, but all she’d been able to focus on was the fact that Stiles was hurt and she wasn’t doing anything about it, which just got her more upset and angry and she got closer to losing control. Scott had been right, if she shifted now she wasn’t sure she’d be able to shift back to human until she found Stiles, she envied Derek’s ability to shift so easily between his two forms.

It didn’t help being in the station, surrounded by people who were all feeling just as useless, the scent of helplessness was overwhelming. She only had one thought over and over, Stiles, Stiles, need to find Stiles, Stiles. She was so lost without him, and not in a romantic way, they’d tried things out, they’d split up, it wasn’t the end of the world. Malia knew she loved him, not in the same way as Derek did, obviously she knew that, she could smell it and it didn’t smell the same way Scott did, or Noah did when they were with Stiles. No, Derek smelled softer but also harder, like he loved Stiles but didn’t want to admit it. Malia shook her head at the thought, what kind of person wouldn’t want to admit they loved somebody? Especially when it was Stiles, who was all kinds of awesome. Derek was an idiot sometimes.

She’d been running non-stop for too long, but she couldn’t stop. She had to find Stiles, and if her mind had time to think about Stiles and Derek together then she wasn’t paying enough attention and she could miss something and then she might miss Stiles.

She glanced back to see that Jason and Percy had appeared next to Frank, the guy had told her he needed to rest and then promptly sank to the floor and gone to sleep. Malia hadn’t been completely heartless, she’d at least called in the others in his pack to watch him while she kept searching, the last thing she needed was someone else going missing. She knew the rest of her pack were around somewhere but she wasn’t sure where, she knew they weren’t far, she could feel that much through the pack bonds, she just wished that the bond with Stiles was strong enough to break through whatever magic was hiding him from them. 

“You need to rest.” A voice called out to her. She glanced back and saw Percy coming towards her with worried eyes.

“I don’t need to.” She snarled back. 

“Malia, you’re going to kill yourself if you keep this up.” He said calmly, taking a step towards her.

“I can’t.” She replied, feeling like she was on the brink of falling apart.

“You can. It’ll be okay.” Percy said, only a few steps away from her now. 

“Didn’t you hear me?!” She screamed, “I can’t. I can’t stop. I need to find him.” She said, trying to hold herself together. 

“We’ll find him.” Percy said taking the final step to her and pulling her into a hug. 

Malia broke down in his arms, not caring that it wasn’t her Alpha offering her comfort, she was unable to stop herself from sobbing. Stiles was hurt and there was nothing she could do. She cried until the world started to fade around her and she fell asleep.

 

Stiles woke up tied to the table, they hadn’t even thrown him back in a cage, just kicked the crap out of him and then shoved him in here with the witch. Still, he felt a slight swell of pride that he’d managed to get in a few punches of his own, it nearly made it worth it. Catherine appeared out of the darkness a moment later, a grim smile on her face. Stiles hated her, of course he was afraid of her, of course he knew she was about to torture him again, try to get him to stop loving the people he cared so much about, so logically he knew it was okay to be scared of her, but he hated her, a deep well of anger that roared inside him every time he saw her. He knew it wouldn’t make the slightest bit of difference though, the only time he had allowed his anger to show she had punished him worse than anything before. So he kept himself as neutral as possible, it was the only way he knew now, he was protecting himself in a careful bubble of neutrality. 

“Good evening sweetheart.” She said running her hands along his cheek and his chest. He tried not to flinch away as she pressed against his injuries, “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit by a bus.” He said casually, “But I’m sure you already knew that.” She grinned at him.

“I did indeed.” She paused, staring at his body in a way that made him feel incredibly uncomfortably, she obviously picked up on his discomfort and laughed, “Come now Stiles, don’t be getting all shy on me. Enough people have already seen this, you shouldn’t shy away now.” She said, punching him in the stomach and Stiles groaned as all the wind was knocked out of him.

“What do you mean?” He managed to cough out as he sucked in air, Catherine smiled at him, flashing her teeth almost ferally.

“Haven’t you figured it out yet? I thought you were supposed to be smart?” She laughed mockingly.

Stiles didn’t reply that he’d suffered from multiple blows to the head since he’d been here and had to fight people who were like twice his size and of course he’d been tortured, it was kind of understandable that his brain was not firing on all cylinders. Not to mention the fact that most of the time when his brain felt like functioning it seemed like it was operating on a loop of whatever Catherine had shown him that day, Scott saying he wasn’t part of the pack, his dad seemingly not bothered about his son, or having Dean confess that he couldn’t give a fuck about Stiles. He reckoned he could be forgiven for not knowing what the hell Catherine was on about.

“Come on Stiles, I really thought you’d have worked it out by now. I’ll give you a hint if you like.” She was running her hands down his torso, brushing against the waist of his jeans. Catherine did something he’d never expected then, and that really was saying something, she leaned close to him, he could feel her hot breath on his neck, and then she was licking and sucking and biting at his neck. He felt physically sick, knowing that she was putting her mark on him, he wanted to throw up, he tried to pull away desperately but Catherine climbed on top of him, pinning him in place, making sure he couldn’t move. 

“Think about the cameras.” She whispered as she nibbled on his earlobe. 

Stiles tried to block out what she was doing and actually think about what she had said, the cameras, they were obviously filming the fights, and plenty of people had seen him shirtless, okay that was straightforward enough, somebody was filming the fights and people were watching them. But how? It clicked a moment later and if he’d had his hands free he would have smacked himself for his stupidity. 

“Finally got it have you?” Catherine laughed, pulling away from him slightly but still resting her weight against him.

“You’re filming the fights, and you’re broadcasting it on the internet, where people can log on to a website and watch.” He spat out, anger flooding through his veins. 

“See, I knew you’d get it eventually.” She said condescendingly. “Although I don’t like the tone you’re using with me Stiles.” 

He only growled in return, how could they do this? How could people watch this? Knowing that they were here against their will. It wasn’t right how twisted people could be. He expected the pain that roared through his body as soon as she placed her hands on his stomach, both of them digging in until it felt like she was ripping him apart piece by piece and he screamed, screamed in pain, in rage, she wouldn’t get away with this, he wouldn’t let her, he felt the justified anger rushing through him, blocking out the worse of the pain. 

Catherine couldn’t believe he was still awake, she snarled as she pushed more of her power into the spell, forcing him to scream in agony. It gave her all kinds of good feelings when he screamed like that. 

Stiles felt his body giving up, saw the darkness around the edge of his vision, he was losing consciousness, his body telling him that he couldn’t take any more. It stopped suddenly and he couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. It only lasted momentarily before he saw Catherine appear before him with a knife in her hand and a grim smile on her face.

“This will only hurt a little Stiles. I just need to send a message. I can’t have my brother thinking you’re like the rest of his little toys after all.” She smirked as she placed one hand on his chest, stopping him from moving and used the other to start carving a word into his chest. He might not have been able to move but he could scream, and he did. He wasn’t proud of it, but he even begged, begged her to stop as he felt the blood running down his sides and he continued to scream, unable to think, unable to even try and control his fear, his pain, all he could do was scream, scream until his voice gave out, until his vision wavered dangerously and everything went black.

When Stiles woke up he was back in a cage, every small movement sending a wave of agony through him. He tried not to think about that, instead he tried to think about what he had learned from Catherine, focus on the fact that the cameras were filming the fights, that if Miller had managed to hack into the website then they’d be able to see the fights. He could get a message out, if he knew where he was, and if they’d managed to hack the site. It was a lot of ‘ifs’ but he felt a spark of hope inside him. He was going to get his cousins and everyone else out of this.

 

Noah had never felt quite so useless as when he’d had to watch his son fight, knowing that there was nothing he could do about it. 

He thought that he would never be able to feel any more useless than he did in that moment, except then he had heard Stiles’ screams, he hadn’t needed supernatural hearing and he had heard his son screaming in agony. It sounded like somebody was murdering him and he glanced at Lydia who shook her head minutely, her face white with horror. 

The screams had stopped shortly after and Noah had fought the urge to be sick, his son was suffering through this, he had to stay strong for Stiles. 

He watched as another fight began a few minutes later, wondering why he never heard anyone else scream? Why it only seemed to be Stiles that they were torturing? He decided he’d ask them himself when he saw them, right before he killed them.

 

Leo flinched when the screams started, tears filling his eyes as he heard Stiles beg the witch to stop. He couldn’t bear to listen to it, he wanted to cover his ears, try and block it out, but it didn’t seem fair. If Stiles had to suffer through it then so would he. Not that he’d been able to get Stiles to talk recently. 

He’d seen them drag one of his cousin’s into the witches room, the not quite so tall one, then he’d seen him come out a few minutes later, his eyes full of unshed tears, a look of horror on his ashen face, and guilt coming off him in waves. He’d seen the guy call out for Stiles when the guards eventually dragged him through the room, shouting apologies, screaming that it was all lies, but either Stiles was out for the count or he was in shock because he didn’t even seem to hear his cousin’s voice. 

When Leo had tried to talk to Stiles the guards had come over and dosed him up with more wolfsbane and Leo was sure he’d been living in a world of hallucinations for the past however long. 

He wasn’t sure how long it was before the screaming started again and he’d grimaced uselessly. He didn’t know what Stiles had done to draw the attention of the witch, but he’d never felt so helpless. He howled as Stiles screamed, it wasn’t much, he knew that his pack wouldn’t hear him, but he hoped Stiles would, hoped that Stiles would realize he wasn’t alone in this. That he had Leo.

They’d thrown Stiles in the cage across the room from Leo, he could smell the blood, watched the tremors of pain than ran through Stiles even in unconsciousness, he didn’t know what had happened, couldn’t know why the witch had suddenly changed tactics but it felt like she’d broken something in Stiles. Except, and Leo really couldn’t figure out why, Stiles smelled of something resembling hope. He hoped the kid wasn’t hopeful about dying. He hoped that Stiles had found a way out that didn’t involve death. 

He wanted to ask, but he didn’t have the strength, the wolfsbane doing it’s job better than he would have thought possible. He closed his eyes and slept.

 

Claire was driving towards the station again, this was only the third time that she’d been home this week and she’d managed a few hours of restless sleep before getting back in her car. She saw a woman who looked vaguely familiar waving for her to stop so she pulled over to the edge of the curb and got out of the car. 

“Oh, Deputy Miller. I’m so glad I caught you.”

“Right, do you need some help?” Claire asked, finally placing her as the woman that worked in the diner near the station.

“No, no of course not.” The woman said shaking her head, seeming to be quite distressed. “It’s about Stiles.” 

Claire froze in shock, it had been two weeks since Stiles was taken, they’d seen him beaten and bloodied, and most recently, horribly, the word ‘Mine’ had been carved into his chest. The Sheriff had thrown up at that one, as had most of the pack. Claire had excused herself and gone home to cry herself to sleep, she was sure her eyes were still red and puffy.

“What about Stiles?” She said immediately, hoping against hope that this was a lead. 

“Well, I’ve only just heard he’s missing you see. I’ve been away on holiday and I came back last night and then, well, Mrs Damner from the shop told me that he’s been missing for nearly two weeks.” 

“Right.” Claire said, trying not to feel disappointed, the woman didn’t know anything, just no doubt wanting Claire to offer her condolences to the Sheriff.

“But you see the thing is, I followed him out of town. Two weeks ago. The day he disappeared. I was driving behind him until he pulled off.” She explained.

Claire stared at the woman in shock, maybe this was a good thing, maybe she could find his jeep, some kind of lead, some way to find him, bring him home. 

“It was definitely Stiles?” She asked nervously, hope building uncertainly in her chest.

“Of course. I’d know that jeep anywhere. He pulled into a diner about thirty miles north of here, you know the one off the old road, with the motel opposite?” Claire did know exactly where she was talking about. “I didn’t know he was missing, otherwise I would have said something sooner. But I’m sure it was him.” The woman continued in earnest.

Claire nodded her head, thanking the woman as she headed back to her car. She spun her car around and headed out in the direction the woman had told her. It was probably nothing, nobody would have seen Stiles. She wasn’t going to give Noah any false hope, she didn’t want to build up her own hope, not yet, not until she knew for certain. She drove quickly, her fingers tapping out a rhythm on the steering wheel to try and sooth her nerves.

When she arrived at the diner she went in instantly, a picture of Stiles in her hand, asking everyone that was working if they’d seen Stiles, if they recognised him, all of them had shaken their heads apologetically, none of them had seen Stiles, and they didn’t recall the jeep. She couldn’t help but let out a heavy sigh, she knew it had been too good to be true.

“Do you mind if I leave this here? If anyone recognizes him if they could call me?” Claire asked holding out the picture of Stiles, scribbling her number on the back. A man leaned across from his seat at the bar as Claire put it down, glancing at the picture.

“Ain’t that the boy who was here the other week?” He said quietly.

Claire could have kissed him. 

“Did you see him? Did you see where he went?” She asked excitedly. The man looked at her, then looked at the picture again, before nodding.

“Yeah I saw him. Heard him too. He was across the road hollering at the manager of the motel.” He replied and Claire raised her eyebrows in confusion but couldn’t help the relief, this was a lead she was sure. “Don’t ask me what about, I don’t know, it didn’t make much sense, something about his cousins were in the room but they wouldn’t come out. I didn’t pay much attention to it really, I was starving. The manager let him in the room and then things quietened down so I figured he’d calmed down. I came in here had some food and didn’t see him again.”

Claire hugged him tightly, not caring that it wasn’t professional. She thanked him repeatedly before rushing out of the diner and running across to the motel.

 

Dean glanced across the room, keeping an eye on Sam as best he could. Sam wasn’t in a good place, but he was still breathing and that was the only reason Dean could relax even slightly. He had to think about Sam, because when he didn’t think of Sam he thought of Stiles, and god did that hurt. The look on the kids face when Dean had said he wouldn’t protect him, he wanted to scream, not because Stiles believed it, but because of how easily he believed it. Had Dean done such a bad job looking out for him that Stiles genuinely believed Dean wouldn’t do anything for him? 

He leaned back against the cage, hating the fact that Stiles was with the witch again. He hadn’t heard any screaming this time, but he wasn’t sure that Stiles still had the energy to scream. He’d seen the guards dragging Stiles back to a cage a while ago, seen the word brutally carved into his chest, no wonder he’d screamed, hell, Dean had screamed over less. 

This mess was all his fault, Sam was hurt, and Dean was hurt, and Stiles was being tortured, and he was completely and utterly useless. Worse was the fact that Dean couldn’t seem to get through to Stiles, no matter how much he called out to him, it was like Stiles was stuck in his own world. He wished Sam was more with it, his brother was better with words, his brother would get through to Stiles he was sure. There was just the serious downside of Sammy barely gaining consciousness the last few days, and, yes, he said days, although really he had no idea no how long it had been, it could have only been hours, but it felt much longer than that.

They needed to find a way to escape from here, but Dean barely had the energy left to fight in the ring, never mind fight off the guards long enough to get Sam and Stiles out of here. And, yes, he was probably selfish for thinking that, but Sam and Stiles were the most important people here, to him anyway, he needed to get them out first. Then he’d come back for the others if he had the strength. He just needed to figure out where they were and how to get out of here.

He looked across and saw Sam staring at him and he let out a sigh of relief.

“Heya Sammy, how you doing?” He asked, his voice flooded with relief that finally his brother’s eyes were open. Sam blinked at him, and then rolled his eyes and Dean couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, how could Sam be so sarcastic without even saying a word?

“Stiles?” Sam questioned, his voice rough with disuse. 

It took Dean a moment to find the words, how could he tell Sam how bad it was, what he’d done, what was happening to Stiles, without falling apart?

“He’s still here.” Dean said quietly. He glanced around the cave again, wishing he could see Stiles, wishing that he was close enough that Sam would be able to speak to Stiles, make him listen. He didn’t know which cage Stiles was in, he didn’t know which room he was in, it could be any of them, it wasn’t like there was any kind of list or order to these things.

“How bad is it?” Sam said again, the effort it was taking him to speak made Dean feel sick, his brother was badly injured and there was nothing he could do about it.

“You’re going to be fine Sammy.” He said reassuringly. Sam shook his head and rolled his eyes again, a look that said, god why did you give me this moron for a brother?

“Not me. Stiles.” He said finally, his eyes shining. Dean didn’t want to tell him but he was sure Sam must have heard some of the screams at least.

“It’s bad.” He said eventually, not wanting to hide the truth from Sam. “But he’ll be fine, just like you kiddo.” Dean tried to reassure him, Sam sighed heavily, finally showing signs of movement as he sat up carefully in his cage, assessing his injuries and wincing with every breath.

“You’ve always been a shitty liar Dean.” Sam said, coughing over his words.

Dean couldn’t help but feel a little offended, he was a very good liar thank you very much. He was about to say as much when two guards wandered past them and glared at them both. Dean was going to make a sarcastic comment but he needed to keep his strength up, which meant keeping a low a profile as possible.

He watched as the guards moved into the next room and he heard them opening a cage, there was only silence, whoever it was they were releasing had obviously stopped fighting them. 

Stiles was been held between the two guards but he seemed to be walking under his own steam which Dean was grateful for. He heard Sam’s gasp of horror as he took in the word carved into Stiles chest, the handprint burned into his stomach, the cuts and bruises that littered his body, and oddly what looked like a hickey on his neck. Dean slammed into the bars as hard as he could, fuck keeping a low profile, that was his cousin and he wasn’t going to sit back and let them hurt him anymore.

“Let go of him! Stiles! Stiles, look at me! I’m right here kid, just look at me!” He screamed, his voice hoarse. He could hear Sam echoing the sentiment, but Stiles didn’t seem to register either of them were there. Instead he was looking around the room, as if trying to take in every little detail, and before he knew it Stiles had disappeared around the corner towards the fighting cage. 

He couldn’t help but let out a little sigh of relief, that his cousin was being taken to fight rather than to the witch, it wasn’t exactly a good thing, but it was still better than having to listen to her torture him again.

Dean didn’t know what the witch was getting from it, other than hurting Stiles, but why Stiles? Why not one of the other thirty plus people here? Why him? Why only him? He closed his eyes trying to prevent the headache that was building, instead he just saw Stiles again, chained to the table, his pale body covered in cuts and his eyes burning with unshed tears as Dean failed to defend him. Dean was too weak to even fight off a witch. He despised himself.

 

Stiles had eventually figured out where he was and when it had finally clicked he had laughed solidly for a good ten minutes. He was sure that everyone had thought he had finally lost the plot, and really he couldn’t blame them, but the thing was, it was funny. He was probably only five miles from the old Hale house. 

The search parties must have been pretty damn weak if they hadn’t found any of them yet, unless of course Catherine had some kind of spell around them, which yeah, okay, maybe she did. But still, the wolves should have been able to smell them, hell, even he could smell the despair in this place. Which meant the wolves weren’t out looking for them. 

He’d pretty much figured that out with what Catherine had shown him, his dad still working hard on the case of all the missing people, he’d even decided to put Sam and Dean on the list now, but he was determined that Stiles was just having a strop somewhere and would be back when he was ready, not that Noah was ready to forgive him. He’d practically told Scott that Stiles wasn’t welcome in his home until he grew up. Scott had promised to tell him that if he saw Stiles before Noah did. Stiles thought about that one a lot, the fact that his dad thought he would just run off, that his dad thought he was a child, that even if he escaped from here, he didn’t have a home to go to. 

The pack however were taking things easy, they were relaxed, having fun, laughing almost constantly. There was no stress, no nerves, no pressure, now that there was no Stiles making a mess of anything. He hated that they were doing so well without him, that they weren’t even looking for him, but he couldn’t blame them. He was a pain in the ass, he knew that, he just thought that they hadn’t been bothered by it, that they still enjoyed having him around even though he was annoying. He had been so very wrong. 

Yes, he was heartbroken, Catherine had shown him exactly what he needed to see, and in a way he appreciated it, he knew that they didn’t need him now. But he also knew that she wanted him to stop protecting them, he thought she wanted to go after them, but, for whatever reason that he couldn’t make any sense of, she couldn’t while he protected them. Which meant that no matter how much it hurt that they didn’t want him, he still had to protect them. Otherwise Catherine would hurt them too, he knew she would. He knew that he was likely wrong, that she was probably just messing with his head, it would be easy for her to do he was sure, but, it helped him. It helped him to believe that he was the only thing standing between her and them, it gave him strength even when he felt his weakest.

He didn’t know why she didn’t just go after them anyway, sure that his protection wasn’t that special, he was powerless after all. But apparently that wasn’t something she was willing to explain. He’d screamed for hours that day when he’d questioned her, when he’d tried to make sense of what she was doing and why. 

So now he knew where he was, and he knew how to tell people where they were, but he had no idea if he’d be able to get a message out. He’d decided the next fight he’d put the information out there as casually as possible and hope that someone watching figured it out and told them where they were. It wasn’t his best plan but it was the only one he had. 

 

Claire had strode across the road determined to find a solid lead on Stiles before she called the Sheriff and the pack, she wasn’t about to give any of them false hope when she knew how close they all were to falling apart.

“Excuse me, I’d like to speak to the manager.” She said flashing her badge.

The woman behind the desk looked up at her, noticed her badge, swallowed audibly and then called out to the back room.

“Tim, the police are here to see you.” 

Tim came out of the room a moment later, a large man, broad shoulders and big arms, he looked to be in his mid-thirties, and in reasonable fitness, apart from the fact that he was very pale and sweat was breaking out on his brow.

“Yes, erm,” He glanced at her badge, “Deputy, how can I help you?” 

“I’m looking for this boy.” She said holding up the picture of Stiles. Tim glanced at the picture, back at the girl sat at the desk and then motioned for Claire to come to the back room. She sat down in the small office, her knee tapping nervously, she wanted to find Stiles, no, she needed to find Stiles, if this didn’t pan out then she was back to square one and she couldn’t bear that. 

“So, Tim, do you recognize him?” She said as soon as he sat down in his seat.

“I guess maybe. He looks familiar, can’t quite place him though, maybe I saw him around.” Tim replied, Claire picked up that the guy was very nervous, more nervous than he had the right to be if he’d just seen Stiles. He was hiding something.

“Funny, I have a witness who can place him at your motel the day he disappeared. And the witness saw him with you.” She said coldly, watching as he started to sweat even more, this guy was shifty as hell. 

“Erm,” He looked at the picture again, “Well, yeah, maybe I do recognize him actually. I mean, maybe, and this is definitely a maybe, I couldn’t say for sure you understand. But maybe, I saw this kid. A couple of weeks back some kid starts pounding on one of my doors, so I go out to confront him, find out what’s going on. Anyway, I manage to calm the kid down and then he went off back to his car and I didn’t see him again. And hell, it could well be that kid.” He said looking again at the picture.

“Funny that I don’t believe you.” She said, no there was something seriously wrong here, something that she was missing, “How did you calm him down?” She asked. 

“Erm, well,” The guy stammered, “I showed him the room, there wasn’t anyone in there. He left not long afterwards.”

“Who did he think was in the room?” She said quickly, knowing she was going to catch this guy out.

“Um, his cousins I think.” 

“And why did he think that his cousins were in the room?”

“Well, apparently their car was parked outside.”

“Apparently? It either was or it wasn’t.” She demanded

“There was a car outside. I don’t know who it belonged to.”

“But it could have been his cousin’s car?”

“I suppose.” Tim said cautiously.

“So, just so I’ve got this straight. This kid, who is known for being persistent in even the smallest of things, finds his cousins car, his cousins who he believes are missing, he then demands to see their room, and you let him. He sees they aren’t there, and he leaves. But he doesn’t call anyone and tell them? Doesn’t call his dad the sheriff? Doesn’t call any of his friends? Just goes back to his car and then disappears off the face of the earth? That sounds a little bit strange to me.” Claire said and Tim practically winced uncomfortably, sitting in silence as he thought over her words. 

“Well, um, I guess, maybe, he would do that? I don’t know him.” Tim rambled nervously.

“If I was him,” Claire pressed, leaning over the desk, “I’d call my dad, tell him that he had to come out here immediately, that he’d found their car but no sign of them, and I wouldn’t leave. Not until either they showed up or my dad did. No way would I go get in my car and drive off. Not a chance. Stiles wouldn’t do that.” She paused, watching the sweat clearly running down Tim’s face now. “So I’ll ask you this just once and you best answer me truthfully, what the hell did you do to Stiles and where is he?” She demanded, her voice full of anger, making her sound as dangerous as possible.

There was a quick knock on the door and Tim seemed to sag in relief, falsely believing that his rescue was here.

“Come in.” He called quickly, his voice cracking.

A man equally as large as Tim came into the room, suddenly making it a very tight squeeze. 

“You called boss?” He asked politely and Tim nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes, Barry, great, come in. I’d like you to meet Deputy Miller. She’s here about a missing boy.” He said slowly, staring at Barry.

Claire looked from Tim to Barry and she felt her heart racing. They’d done something to Stiles, she knew it, they were wrapped up in this somehow, and she’d come out here, without telling anyone where she was, without even letting them know about a possible lead. Her heart rate accelerated and she reached quickly for her gun. Barry grabbed her arm before she could grab her weapon, knocking her to the floor and pinning her in place. 

“What do you want me to do with her boss?” Barry asked, and Claire couldn’t help but panic slightly, were they about to kill her?

“Stick her in the pits. I’m sure there’s some down there that would love to spend some time with a proper woman.” Tim laughed, wiping the sweat from his face, seeming to relax now that the problem was solved.

“You’re not going to get away with this.” She said, knowing Stiles would smack her for using such a cliché. “They’ll come looking for me. I promise you, you are a dead man.” She said glaring at him before a fist connected with her jaw and everything went dark.

 

Lydia wasn’t sure why she was at the station again. She’d been here almost non-stop over the past few weeks, and when she wasn’t here, she was out searching with the wolves, or more often than not, sleeping in Stiles’ room. 

In fairness the whole pack seemed to be there, and she included Percy, Jason and Frank in that. It was odd that despite the fact they didn’t know Stiles they still seemed to take some comfort in his room. Lydia wouldn’t admit that she slept with a hoodie of Stiles’ just because it still smelled faintly of him and it made her relax enough to sleep, and, if she’d faced off against Derek last night to get that particular hoodie, well, none of them were going to question it, they were all on edge with Stiles gone, it was obvious that they needed to find him and sooner rather than later. 

The Sheriff hadn’t had an issue with them staying at his house, seeming to revel in having a full house, as if it somehow made it easier to deal with the fact that his son wasn’t there. 

She was currently sat in the meeting room, the screen still playing beside her, another fight just finishing up. She’d seen Dean take a few heavy hits, but he’d still beaten his opponent eventually, she wasn’t sure how he was holding up, although it seemed better than Sam, who she hadn’t seen fight in two days, and Stiles, who’d appeared yesterday afternoon with an odd look of relief on his face before having a vicious fight with his opponent. Stiles had barely even managed to say two words before the guy had been on him. Eventually Stiles went down and stayed down, but it had to be the longest fifteen minutes of her life. They hadn’t seen him since.

Noah was currently on the phone but from the sounds of the end of his conversation he wasn’t having much luck.

“Damn it, Winchester. Listen to me…” The Sheriff sighed as it was obvious that the man wasn’t listening to him.

“I don’t care about a ghost hunt at the other end of the country…” 

“I don’t care if you’ve got a wendigo to hunt either….”

“I’m trying to tell you Sam and Dean…”

“No, I know your sons can take care of themselves…”

“Would you just listen to me for one…” 

“You are an ass Winchester. Would you just shut up for one minute…”

“Fuck you Winchester.” The Sheriff said dramatically before ending the call and nearly throwing the phone against the wall in rage.

“I guess that he wasn’t exactly willing to listen to you?” Lydia said quietly, wishing that Dean’s dad could have seen the state of his sons yesterday, if he had seen what she had then there was no way he’d be at the other end of the country.

“No. Apparently his time is important. His sons are fine or will be fine, apparently ‘they can look after themselves, that’s the way I raised them’. And he’s got a god damn wendigo to hunt down after he’s finished his latest ghost hunt. Not to mention he’s still trying to track the demon that killed his wife. Apparently, we are not high on his list of priorities and neither are his sons.” Noah raged.

Lydia didn’t really have a reply for that, other than the obvious retort that John Winchester was an ass, but the Sheriff had already covered that point.

“How’s everyone holding up?” He asked her eventually as he sagged into a chair. 

“Still hanging in there I guess.” She paused, “Scott’s losing his mind, Malia can barely hold her change together, Isaac is trying to make sure the others rest when they need to, Derek is freaking out and completely losing it, Erica is making the shittiest remarks but I know it’s just because she’s scared, Cora is pretending like she’s totally fine when it’s obvious she’s not, I’m…” She stopped, cutting off the words before she could utter them.

“You’re what Lydia?” Noah said, looking at the young woman, noticing the unshed tears in her eyes. He watched as Lydia straightened her shoulders and her mouth became a firm line.

“I’m fine.” She said eventually.

“Sure Lydia. If you’re fine, then I’m in high spirits.” Noah scoffed, he looked at the girl again, “How long have you loved Stiles?” He asked quietly, watching as her eyes went wide.

“I’m not in love with Stiles.” She denied quickly.

“I never said you’re in love with him. I said you love him. There’s a difference.” He watched the fear on her face and tried to put himself in her shoes before speaking again, “You know that saying, ‘it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.’ Maybe you need to think about that.” He said before getting to his feet and glancing at the offices outside. 

“I’m scared I won’t ever get the chance to tell him now.” Lydia admitted a few minutes later and Noah turned to look at her.

“You will. We all will. I guarantee we will all get to tell Stiles how much he means to us. I’m going to get my son back. This isn’t going to end any other way.” He said fiercely, he had to believe it, believe it with every fibre of his being, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to get out of bed in the morning.

“I love him. He’s my best friend. He’s always had my back, and, I was so scared. I was scared if I told him that he mattered to me, that he wouldn’t want to be around me anymore. Except now I’m scared I’m never going to get to tell him just how much he matters, to me, to all of us.” She admitted, Noah sat next to her and pulled her into a gentle hug. 

“I might not know much, but I know Stiles loves you all, that you’re his pack, his family, he’d do anything for any of you, he knows you love him too. Although, Stiles didn’t tell me, maybe he told you guys, but I didn’t know that Derek loves him as much as he does…” Noah said sheepishly and Lydia grinned, wiping at the tears in her eyes slightly. 

“Me neither. Trust me, that’s a shock to all of us apart from Cora, Peter and Malia apparently. They knew. Some kind of ‘born wolf’ thing.” Lydia admitted and Noah rolled his eyes. 

“When did our lives get so weird hey?” He muttered and Lydia laughed, she wasn’t sure she’d remembered how that felt, but here she was, laughing. “I mean it though, we are going to get Stiles back. You might want to start planning what you want to say, about how much he matters to you. So you know that he knows, there’s no doubt from either of you.” Noah said confidently and Lydia smiled for the first time in so long. Noah was right. They were going to get Stiles back.

 

Stiles heard the shuffle of feet by his cage door and knew the time was here again, he didn’t know if they were taking him to fight, or taking him to Catherine, all he knew was that he had to get a message out. He’d tried during his last fight but his opponent had been better than he’d expected, Stiles had barely managed more than a few words before all of his concentration had to go in to trying not to get beaten to death, as it was that hadn’t worked all that well either, but, at least he was still alive and he was wiling to give his plan another go.

They took him from the cage and stood him upright, just as more shuffling could be heard coming around the corner. He looked up and was surprised to see the manager from the motel and one of his buddies, but between them they held Miller, and his heart went through the roof. 

“Miller!” He screamed, hoping for a reply, hoping that she was alive. Not caring that she thought he was annoying, or a pain in the ass, or anything else, just that she was here, in this hellhole. He let out a sigh of relief when she looked up and their eyes met, recognition at seeing Stiles. He fought hard against his guards, trying to get to her. 

“Stiles!” She called out, relief evident in her voice, pulling against the manager and his friend, trying to get to Stiles. Suddenly there were four more guards in the room followed by the big boss. 

“What is going on here!?” He demanded and the whole room seeming to still, almost magically, Stiles wondered if he was a witch too, Catherine had called him her brother, so, it wouldn’t be beyond belief that he had magic too. 

“Well, you see boss, she turned up at the motel, asking questions. I had to bring her here.” Tim explained, Stiles watched as the boss looked at the motel manager in disgust.

“Please tell me she’s not someone important Tim.” He sighed heavily.

“Erm,” Tim shifted his weight on his feet, looking at the ground uncomfortably. “Well, maybe, she could be important, but she probably isn’t. I don’t know if anyone will notice she’s missing for a while though.” 

“Who is she?” The boss said taking a step towards Miller.

“I am a deputy at the Beacon Hills Sheriff department.” Miller snarled with determination. “I told my boss where I was going and that I wouldn’t be gone for more than a couple of hours. He’s going to know I’m missing, if he doesn’t already. And he’s going to move heaven and earth to find us.” She said looking at Stiles, knowing he sensed her lie, Stiles knew for a fact that nobody would know she was missing and that nobody knew where she had been and he cursed internally. She couldn’t have made this easy for him? For any of them? 

The boss just sighed heavily before twisting his fingers and both Tim and Barry dropped dead to the ground, their necks snapped, heads twisted so viciously that Miller could only see the back of their heads as they lay on the ground. Claire stood in shock for a moment, barely registering that there was nobody holding her in place, staring at the dead bodies with terror, knowing that with a snap of his fingers, the boss could kill her just as easily, she couldn’t even react before two more guards grabbed hold of her and held her in place. 

“Take her to my room, I could do with some entertainment.” He glanced across at Stiles, “Take him to the ring. Give him one last fight and then he’s Catherine’s to play with however she wants.” Stiles pretended not to panic at that, “We’ll be ready to clear out by sunrise. Got it?” There were a few mumbled agreements and then they were dragging Stiles away from Miller.

“Did you solve it?” Stiles screamed at her, hoping she’d realize what he was on about. “Miller, did you crack it?” He shouted again, finally locking eyes with her as she nodded.

He allowed himself to be dragged towards the cage, trying to calm himself enough to figure out how to get a message out without them realizing what he was doing, and to let whoever was watching know that they only had until sunrise until they’d be gone, if they wanted to rescue to Miller and the other captives, Stiles needed to give them as much information as possible without letting any of the guards know what he was doing and forcing them to act quicker. He wondered vaguely if it was his dad watching, then he tried not to think of that, thinking of his dad only made his chest tighten and his heart hurt.

He was thrown into the ring, facing number seventeen, a large man, vicious, merciless and not to mention ugly. Stiles grinned at him, trying to hide all of his nerves, he had to get this message out and he had to do it right now.

 

Scott had only just slumped into the chair when Stiles appeared on screen looking the worst Scott had seen him yet. He’d been out running earlier in the day, he knew now it was hopeless, that they needed a better plan, but until somebody figured a better one out, he had to keep searching for them. The others had all gathered, even Derek, which had surprised him slightly, the man had barely been back to the station since finding out Stiles was missing, certain that every minute he wasn’t out searching for Stiles it was a minute wasted. The only one missing was Deputy Miller, which Scott thought was odd, but he supposed they all had to sleep some time, and, as a human, she needed more sleep than the wolves.

Stiles had his usual sarcastic grin in place, but his eyes were searching everywhere but his opponent, Scott knew instantly that Stiles was planning something, he’d seen that look far too many times in the past to miss it now. There was sudden silence in the room as everyone else noticed the look in Stiles’ eyes, as they all rested on the edge of their seats, determined to figure out what Stiles was thinking, wishing they could read his mind, see what he could see. 

“Hey, you know what, you kind of remind me of my friend Scott?” Stiles began, grinning at the guy, Scott couldn’t help but be a little offended, this guy looked like he’d hit every branch of the ugly tree.

“Less talking and more fighting.” The man snarled as Stiles dodged a quick punch, stepping quickly out of the way.

“Hey, I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, Scott was like my best friend growing up, but I guess it’s the tall, ugly thing that reminds me of him.” Stiles said quickly, laughing as another fist came his way.

“You little shit.” The man growled and Stiles smirked again, dancing out of reach of another punch.

“You know, when me and Scott were, what, twelve maybe? We’d gone hiking in the woods near my house.” Stiles continued, there was another fist and another dodge, Stiles glanced at the cameras quickly, so fast Scott might have missed it, but he knew his friend had a plan, this was important. “He had terrible asthma, and my brilliant idea was lots of fresh air would do him good.” Another step out of the way, barely dodging the punch that time. “We were out walking, I was chatting away, you know, as usual, and I turned around and Scott was gone. Just disappeared.” Stiles kicked out at the guy as he got closer, he managed to move far enough out of his reach that he knew he’d bought himself a few more seconds, “I found him eventually, he’d fallen down a hole into a cave.” Stiles laughed, “So, obviously, I jumped in after him, except when I got down there, I realized there was no way we were getting out the way we came in.” Stiles dodged again, “We spent all night trying to find a way out, because seriously man, huge cave system. But we found a way out eventually. Scott was determined that we’d never go there again, but I couldn’t help but worry, you know, what if he fell down some other hole and we didn’t know the place very well.” Stiles dodged another flying fist, but it was close, he was running out of time. “So, what Scott doesn’t know is that I went back down into the caves and plotted out every square mile of that system, I spent all summer doing it, I drew up plans, they’re probably still in my room you know? Of course, we never used the caves again, but it was a great adventure.” Stiles swung a fist to connect solidly with his opponent and then danced back out of the way. “Funny isn’t it? That there is miles of cave systems underneath Beacon Hills and Scott happened to fall into one of the only ways in, I mean it’s not an official entrance, more of a collapsed bit of system, but still. I mean there’s only two other entrances, which is just beyond weird if you ask me! But anyway, that’s not the point. The point is that you remind me of Scott. Although maybe not quite so chatty.” Stiles said as the man growled at him. 

“I’m going to kill you, you little shit. Just stay still.” He snapped. 

“Yeah, that’s not happening.” Stiles laughed, “I appreciate the honesty, we both know you aren’t going to catch me, I’m way too fast for you, so you should just listen to me instead. I mean, really, you’re going to follow the orders of this raging group of psychopaths? You know that they’ve kidnapped a Sheriff’s kid? And then if that’s not enough to get a rescue they go and grab themselves a deputy?” Stiles paused in his movements, glanced at the cameras, god, he hoped someone was watching, he hoped they understood, “And really, other than the pet bitch, sorry, I need to mind my language, the pet witch, they’ve got protecting them, what have they got as a back-up plan? I’ll bet they’ll have hightailed it out of here by sunrise, so what’s the point in fighting me? What’s the point hey? Why don’t you just stop?” Stiles shouted as the guy lashed out again, Stiles dodged the fist and slammed his elbow into the guy’s side, watched as he crumpled slowly to the floor, gasping for breath. “Huh, guess you are like Scott. He couldn’t take a good hit either, it’s always better to go for the unexpected approach. You know, using the surprise factor.” He grinned as his opponent was dragged away. The guards came for Stiles warily but he only held his hands up in acceptance. “No need for the cattle prods guys. You’re taking me to Catherine I guess? No problem, she always gets so involved with her torture she forgets about everything else, and I guess I do like the attention.” He said sarcastically, before glancing once more at the cameras and been escorted from the cage.

There was silence in the meeting room. 

“What the fuck was that?” Percy asked quietly.

“That was Stiles.” Malia said simply, a feral smile appearing on her face. “Are we going to go kick some witch ass now?” She said to Scott.

“Can someone explain to me what the fuck just happened?” Jason demanded.

“That was Stiles telling us that; one. They’re in the caves on the preserve. Two. There’s only two entrances, but not to use either of them. Three, They’ve got Miller. Four. They’ve got a witch who’s not going to notice if we don’t use one of the main entrances because she’ll be too busy torturing Stiles. And five. They’ll be gone by sunrise so we need to act quickly.” Lydia surmised, surprised by how even her voice sounded despite how emotionally raw she felt.

“Shit.” Scott said, trying to process everything that had just happened, “How do we know it’s Miller?” 

“Why else wouldn’t she be here?” Peter queried, watching as Scott paced across the room.

“Okay. We know where they are. We know they won’t be there for long. We need to plan. And quickly.” Scott said. 

“I bet Stiles still has the maps of the caves in his room somewhere. I mean, why else would he mention them?” Cora suggested. 

“Right, sure, Erica, can you and Isaac and Cora go see if you can find them? It’ll probably show where I fell in, we can use that as an entrance.” Scott said decisively and they nodded, already racing out of the room. 

“We don’t have time for that.” Derek snapped, “They’ll be gone by sunrise! We need to go now. Stiles is in danger.” 

“Derek, I get you’re worried, we all are. But Stiles has given us the information we need to get in with the element of surprise. If we blow that, they could kill him long before we get there. Just, give us an hour, let us come up with a way to get in without giving ourselves away, okay?” Scott replied. 

“If they leave before we get there…” Derek pressed. 

“Stop it!” Allison snapped, “You love Stiles. We get it. We love him too. You’re not the only one who cares about getting to him Derek. Stop acting like you are and stop wasting time arguing. We need to plan, so let’s plan and let’s get to Stiles but let’s be smart about it. Got it?” She shouted and Derek gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw before he finally nodded in acceptance. 

 

Dean had seen them drag the deputy past them a little while ago, pushing her in the direction of the dark room, he also saw Stiles come back from the cage only to be shoved straight into Catherine’s room and the door slammed shut, sealing him off from them. He’d heard the screams that started a little while afterwards. He’d seen Sam sitting across from him, too weak to do anything other than flinch every time there was another scream. Dean had to do something, he had to, but he didn’t know what to do, there was nothing he could do, he couldn’t do anything, god, he was so useless, so pointless, so helpless. 

He heard the deputy start screaming a few minutes after Stiles, he hated to think what was happening to her, he wasn’t sure if she was in the dark room, or somewhere else altogether, but, from the sounds of her screams, there was nothing enjoyable about her. Dean knew that something was going on, the guards were on edge, disappearing off with boxes of equipment and returning without them. He didn’t know what to think of that, he just knew that something was wrong, the routine was disrupted. Something was going to happen and soon, it gave him hope, maybe, with the changes to routine, someone, somewhere would slip up, and it would give him the chance to get out of this cage, to fight, to get Sam and Stiles out of here. He tried to stay calm, his eyes assessing everything, waiting for the opportunity to present itself.

Dean froze with horror when he saw the guards starting to pull out their guns. The boxes of equipment were all gone, moved to wherever they were being taken to, the only thing left to move was the prisoners, except, it didn’t look like they were planning on taking any of the captives with them. Instead, they moved along the row of cages, taking their time, getting enjoyment from it as they picked cages at random, before firing into the cages and killing the person trapped in there. They were egging each other on, laughing and joking and toying with the remaining prisoners, strolling past several cages before picking their next target. They were sick and Dean was going to kill them. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Dean shouted, not caring that he was drawing attention to himself.

“Cleaning house. We don’t need to take you with us, there’s always plenty of fighters to pick up, no matter where we go.” One of the guards said with a smile before turning away from Dean to the cage opposite him, towards Sam. 

“No!” Dean screamed out, helpless to do anything to stop the guard from shooting Sam, “No! Stop! Stop! Shoot me! Shoot me instead! Please!” He shouted, he begged, but the guard ignored him, shooting him a smirk as he levelled the gun at Sam’s head and Dean could only watch in horror. 

It felt like time had slowed down, two things happened instantaneously, first, the guard pulled the trigger on his gun, and, secondly, another shot rang out, a bullet flying through the air and burying itself in the guard’s head. He dropped to the ground dead but Dean couldn’t look at that, couldn’t think about what it mean, his eyes were only for Sam, Sam who was clutching at his shoulder in pain, grimacing as he tried to apply pressure and stop the bleeding, but, god, he was alive, he was still alive, and Dean, Dean couldn’t breathe, he was so relieved he was almost certain his heart had stopped.

Dean came back to his senses, noise flooding back in to his ears, he could hear more guns going off, people shouting, screaming. There was a fight going on, the room was filled with people, most of them he recognized, Scott, Noah, Peter, Malia, Cora, Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Liam, Allison and Lydia were all there, there were a few others that he didn’t recognise and there was ever a wolf, a huge black wolf with glowing golden eyes, making short work of all his opponents. 

Dean turned away from the fight, looking in the opposite direction to see if there were any more guards coming, instead he saw Catherine appear with Stiles pulled flush against her, she took one look at the scene before her and then turned and fled towards the main fighting ring, the same direction that the deputy had been taken, still holding tightly onto a struggling Stiles. 

There were still a few guards fighting their rescuers off when Noah broke open Dean’s cage. Dean stood up unsteadily, clapping a hand to the older man’s shoulder in gratefulness before immediately heading across to Sam who was already being pulled out of his cage by a worried looking Lydia, Isaac and Scott. 

“He’s dying.” Lydia said quickly, “I can feel it.” She informed them, “Scott, you or Percy need to do something right now if you want him to live.” 

“It’s only a fifty percent chance Lydia.” Scott said quietly.

“I know that. But you bite him and maybe he lives, or you don’t, and he dies. Make your mind up and do it quickly.” She snapped, turning her attention away from Sam and to one of the guards that was left blocking their path, using her scream to knock him off his feet using only the power of her voice. Sam looked at Dean with unfocused eyes and Dean turned to Scott, knowing what the decision had to be, he couldn’t watch his brother die, not if there was a chance he could live, knowing they didn’t have any other option.

“Please.” Dean said urgently, Scott nodded and then shifted, allowing his eyes to glow red and his teeth to elongate before he bit down on the shoulder without a bullet in it. Sam let out a small yelp of pain and then he was silent, the strain of making any noise evidently too much for him.

 

They’d gotten into the cave through the same hole that Scott had fallen through years before, it had taken them a while to find it, even using Stiles’ maps, but as soon as they were inside they knew they were close, they could all smell the fear – even those without supernatural senses, and then shortly after they heard gunshots and they’d all raced in to the caves, determined to stop whatever was happening and save Stiles, Leo and the others.

Percy had rushed in with the rest of them, taking out as many guards as possible, looking around at the dead bodies in the cages. He’d helped to get Dean and Sam out of their cages, watched as Scott gave Sam the bite, he really hoped it worked then he’d caught the scent that he’d feared he would never smell again. Leo. The relief he felt was nothing in comparison to the scent of relief coming from Leo, it was so overwhelming it nearly knocked Percy off his feet.

“Leo!” He shouted, running to his pack mate, Leo just smiled up at him weakly from the bottom of his cage, barely having the strength to move, the smell of wolfsbane and something else, something almost familiar and sickening, made Percy feel queasy.

“Hey buddy. Knew you’d find me.” Leo said quietly, his voice breaking in pain as he spoke.

“Leo, what’s wrong?” Percy asked, ripping open the cage and starting to drag Leo out. He sounded like crap, he looked like crap, and, Percy froze, oh god, was that blood, Leo was coughing up blood, this couldn’t be good, he’d never seen a wolf cough up blood like this before. “Leo, what do I do?” Malia was with him within a moment, looking down at Leo with concern.

“It’s mistletoe poisoning, Cora had it once. He’s dying.” She said, sounding almost apologetically.

“But, no, there has to be way to stop it! To save him! Please? How do I save him?” Percy said looking at her with desperation in his eyes.

“You can heal him, but you’d have to give up your alpha powers.” Malia said, crouching down next to the two of them as Boyd launched himself at the guard that had been about to shoot Malia in the back.

“Fine. I’ll give them up. I don’t want them. I want Leo alive. Please, just tell me how.” He demanded. Malia explained the situation as quickly as she could, he could see how distracted she was as all the time she was trying to spot Stiles in this mess, Percy hoped that they wouldn’t find his body in one of the cages, that they hadn’t been too late, Frank appeared beside them just as the final guard went down. 

“Where’s Stiles?” He heard Derek demand, obviously shifting back to human form in the hope that it would help him find Stiles quicker. 

“He was with the witch.” Dean replied, his voice cracking with relief as he watched his brother slowly start to heal from the wound. 

Derek and the others were moving forwards again, trying to find Stiles as quickly as he could, a cold terror in his chest like nothing he had ever felt before, he was so close, he could almost feel Stiles, he had to find him. 

“You need to be careful, she can control your words. Don’t let her touch you.” Dean warned, he didn’t want to leave Sam, not in the state he was in, he might be healing from the bite, but, the rest of his injuries didn’t seem to be improving at all. As desperate as he was to stay with Sam, he was just s desperate to get to Stiles, in the end he stayed motionless, frozen in place with indecision. He was grateful that Erica and Allison at least stayed with him. 

Dean rested Sam’s head on his lap, taking reassurance in the fact that his brother was still breathing, glancing around to see that Percy, Frank and Cora had all stayed with Leo, the rest of them had all moved forward, planning to rescue Stiles and put an end to this. 

 

Stiles was sure his voice had all but been destroyed from all the screaming, Catherine had been more vicious than usual, seemingly determined to get him to betray his family, it only made him more stubborn though. He would not break. Not now. Not ever. If she wanted him to betray his whole family then she was going to be sorely disappointed. He’d die before he stopped protecting them. 

He’d almost cried in relief when he’d heard the sound of fighting outside, they’d got the message, they were here. Catherine had dragged him outside of her room, back in to the main caves, using his body as a shield from anybody who chose to shoot at them. Thankfully nobody did which Stiles couldn’t help but feel relieved about, but then he was being thrown through another door and he hit the stone the floor hard, whimpering slightly as it felt like his wrist had cracked under the impact. 

“Rude much.” He grumbled as he made a show of brushing the dirt from his jeans as he straightened up, trying to hide his pain as best as possible, trying to buy himself as much time as possible, the longer he delayed them, the more chance of the pack coming. 

“Shut up!” Catherine snapped, clicking her fingers and Stiles found he had no voice, no sound left his mouth no how matter how hard he tried. “Edward!” Catherine scolded, “There are werewolves at our door. We need to leave.” 

Stiles took in the room slowly, looking at the man she was addressing at Edward, huh, it was the boss man, he thought disinterestedly. Instead his eyes locked on Miller, she was chained to the wall, stood in her bra and pants, tears streaming down her face, and Edward was stood holding a knife to her stomach, Stiles stared in horror, that was flesh, oh god, he was going to be sick, this bastard was skinning her alive. 

“Stiles.” Miller said, her voice no louder than a whisper, unshed emotion in that singular word.

He tried not to think of all the other times she had said his name recently, the times she’d said he was a fuck up, encouraged his dad to not search for him, showed such understanding, because of course it must be so hard to have a son like him, a hyperactive delinquent. She was obviously a good actress, because in that singular word she actually made it sound like she cared about Stiles.

He knew she didn’t, but it didn’t matter, he still cared about her, what Edward had been doing was still wrong, it didn’t matter who he was doing it to, or if they cared about Stiles or not, that wasn’t how affection worked, Stiles didn’t only care about people who cared about him, he cared about everyone, any injustices wouldn’t stand, no matter what. What pissed him off more than anything was the fact that this bastard thought it was okay to skin people. Stiles roared in rage as he charged forward, seemingly surprising Edward who dropped the knife as Stiles tackled him. Stiles landed on top of him, straddling him as he landed punch after punch on Edward, feeling more like an animal than a man, the rage driving him to continue. 

“You sick. Sadistic. Fuck.” Stiles roared, whether Catherine’s spell had broken or been removed Stiles didn’t know and didn’t care, he just kept shouting at Edward, punctuating each word with a blow to his face, his body, anywhere and everywhere.

“Enough.” Catherine snapped, pulling him off Edward, the touch of her hand sending waves of agony through Stiles, forcing him to crash to the floor. Catherine picked up Edward’s knife off the ground, twirling it in her fingers slowly, looking at Stiles on the floor, then without any warning she plunged the knife into Edward’s chest. “Sorry brother, but you need to know when you’ve been beaten.” 

Edward’s face was one of pure shock, it lasted only a moment before his eyes glazed over, the look of betrayal still evident on his face. Stiles only had a moment to take it in, staring at Edward’s body in astonishment, she’d killed her brother, in cold blood, for no reason, he couldn’t make any sense of it and then Catherine grabbed him, pulling him flush against her again, the knife pressed to his throat as the door was kicked in.

 

Scott could smell Stiles, he knew he was close, so close to getting his best friend out of here, it only took a moment for him to kick the door in and then he saw him.

Noah, Malia, Jason, Liam, Isaac, Boyd, Peter, Lydia and Derek were behind him, all of them gasping in horror at the scene in front of them. Malia growling quietly, her eyes flashing blue at the witch, Derek was snarling, he took a step forward and then froze in place when the witch tutted at him. She had a knife pressed to Stiles’ throat, a trickle of blood already running down his throat, pressing it deeper when any of them moved even slightly. Deputy Miller was tied up to the side of them, a pool of blood already at her feet, her stomach covered in it, and her eyelid fluttering as she tried desperately to stay conscious. 

Stiles looked worse than he had done over the cameras, the cuts and bruises more vivid than they had seemed, the word so cruelly carved into his chest seemed to almost glow in the dim cave and the witch had her other hand wrapped around him, covering what could only be her palm print that was burned in to his stomach.

Before Scott could do anything other than utter a growl and glare at her, he felt a presence running rampant through his brain, hear her soft laughter as she took control of every one of his actions.

“I’ll tell you what’s going to happen now.” The witch said, Scott glanced at his pack, he thought that they must all be under the same spell as him, there was no way that they would have been as silent or as still otherwise. Not with how desperate they all were to get to Stiles.

“What have you done to them?” Stiles said, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously around the sharp point of the knife.

“You shouldn’t worry so much sweetheart.” She said, pressing her lips to Stiles’ neck, Scott thought he heard the quietest growl from Derek but he couldn’t be certain and he knew there was no way Stiles or Catherine had heard it, “It’s okay, don’t worry Stiles, I’ve done nothing to them but hold them in place. I’m not hurting them.” She lied, smirking at them from behind Stiles, knowing that Stiles wouldn’t be able to pick up on the lie. “Now, I’ll keep this simple. I need to take a life in order to leave here.” 

If Scott had needed further proof of her powers, he got it, without even asking for it, when his mouth opened and he spoke without his control.

“And who’s life are you planning on taking exactly?” Scott queried, he was screaming internally, he couldn’t believe this was happening, he couldn’t believe she could make his voice sound so calm, so relaxed, when she was threatening Stiles, when she had a knife digging in to his best friend’s neck, when Scott’s heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest it was beating so rapidly, when all he wanted to do was tear her apart for daring to touch Stiles.

“Well, we have Deputy Miller over there, she’s already lost a lot of blood, she probably won’t make it through the night either way, you know shock does awful things to the body, or,” She pressed the knife a little tighter against Stiles’ throat, making him hiss in pain slightly, “I can kill Stiles here. I mean, either one is fine with me, but I’ll let you guys make the decision. Hell, I’ll be really nice and let Claire and Stiles vote as well.” Catherine said grinning widely at them.

Scott wanted to scream in outrage, what he wanted to do was kill this witch, not decide on the life or death of one of his pack, and really, as much as he didn’t want to think about it, there really was no choice to be made, if only one of the two were going to leave the room alive, it was Stiles. It would always be Stiles.

“Who wants to go first?” The witch said smirking at them all. She took her hand off Stiles’ hip, keeping the knife tight against his throat, “How about you?” She said pointing to someone behind him, Scott followed the line of her pointed finger, looking at Jason who seemed to be absolutely terrified.

“I don’t know.” Jason paused, seeming to weigh up his words before speaking again, “I don’t know Stiles. I do know Miller. I want you to spare her.” He said quietly and Catherine nodded in understanding.

“Okay, so one vote for killing Stiles.” She laughed before pointing to Noah. Scott could almost see the violent fight that was going on in Noah’s mind, sure that he was experiencing the same thing, that what he wanted to say was not what was coming out of his mouth.

“Miller is a good deputy.” He said trailing off, you could hear the despair in his voice, knowing that he was condemning his son as he spoke.

“As opposed to Stiles who isn’t a good son?” The witch said carefully, her lips almost pressed against Stiles’ ear as she spoke, Scott could see the shudder that ran through Stiles’ body, hated that she was using them to hurt his friend, but unable to do anything about it.

Noah didn’t say anymore, just nodded his head slowly, grimacing as he did so, as if it pained him to do so, Scott had no doubt in his mind that it did.

“What about you Miller? Who do you want to save?” Catherine asked, Scott glanced at Miller who was barely conscious, the words were still torn from her throat.

“Me. Please save me.” She whispered, her lips bloody, but you could see the anger in her face, the strain in her voice.

“I’m sorry Stiles. It has to be Miller. She’s never hurt anybody.” Malia whimpered and Scott could see the way Stiles was slowly crumbling under their words. 

“Miller needs to live. She’s a good person.” Liam spoke up quietly.

“Obviously I’m not going to want Stiles to live. He’s a disaster at the best of times.” Peter said mockingly.

“Sorry Stiles, but, Peter’s right, it’s easier without you.” Isaac explained.

“Miller’s the better choice to keep alive.” Boyd said.

“Miller has never made me feel like shit. You have Stiles, on multiple occasions. Miller is worth saving.” Lydia was glaring at the witch, spitting out the words in hatred, Scott knew that wasn’t true, knew it was the witch controlling the words, knew that Lydia would never say something like that to Stiles, and then it was Scott’s turn.

“Stiles, you’re my brother, you always have been, and you always will be, but people get hurt because of you, they always do. I’m sorry Stiles. But I’ve got to save Miller.” Scott explained. He could see the tears in Stiles eyes, he hated himself, hated that he wasn’t strong enough to fight this, to say what he really felt. 

 

“And what about you Derek?” Catherine smiled evilly, Derek growled, gritting his teeth, trying so hard to fight her spell, at least make Stiles aware that he was under a spell, but he wasn’t strong enough, he couldn’t stop the hate-filled words spilling from his lips. 

“You told me you loved me.” Derek gritted out, “You left me a voicemail, you told me you loved me, that you needed me.” Stiles looked at him, wide eyed, innocent, Derek knew the spell wouldn’t stop there, but there was no way to fight it, and he knew Stiles was going to be destroyed by whatever came next, “It’s why I stayed away as long as I have, because the thought of having to see you, look at you, think about you, it disgusts me. You disgust me. I only came back because I’m not staying away from my family because of you, but, if she kills you, takes you out of the equation, it makes my life a hell of a lot easier.” Derek snarled, his wolf howling at him, because how could they say that!? How could they say that to Stiles!? They needed to take it back, apologize, say sorry, do something. Stiles’ gaze went to the floor, tears wetting the floor by his feet, the stench of grief, of rage, of fear was suddenly overpowered by something so much worse for him, the scent of acceptance.

He knew Stiles accepted what Derek had said, accepted it as truth, accepted it so easily. No, no, he couldn’t let Stiles think that was true, Derek loved him, he’d called him back, he’d left him a voicemail, he’d told Stiles that he loved him too. Had Stiles not received it? Or did he just assumed Derek had been lying on the message? Because he knew that right now, with no doubt in his mind, that Stiles believed every word he’d just spoken. It wasn’t fair, and it was so wrong, and Derek was desperate to stop it, to stop the spell, the magic, god, he wanted to tell Stiles it was all lies, it was all lies and he loved him and he’d kill Miller himself if it meant Stiles was safe. 

“And what about you Stiles?” The witch taunted, “Who do you think is worth saving?” 

There was silence in the room, Derek felt like he was going to be violently sick, he could smell the triumph coming from Catherine, the despair coming from the rest of the pack, the complete and utter devastation wafting from Stiles, as if he thought that he deserved this, that their words were all truth, that he really meant nothing to any of them. Derek could feel his throat constricting, his chest felt tight with grief, he would have been crying if Catherine didn’t have complete control over him and everyone else in the room. 

“Not me.” Stiles whispered, “I’m not worth saving. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough. Spare Miller, let her live instead.” Stiles said quietly, refusing to make eye contact with any of them, staring at the ground instead, as if awaiting his fate.

The witch looked over at Derek, meeting his eyes, grinning at him with such joy in her eyes as she pulled Stiles tight against her. 

“I guess you’re right Stiles. You were never good enough for them.” She said victoriously, before pulling the knife from his throat and plunging it into his chest.

“No!” Derek roared out in denial, taking a step forward before a blast suddenly knocked him off his feet.

He sat up, looking at the others, evidently, they had been knocked down in the blast too. His eyes went instantly to the place where the witch had last been, to where Stiles should be. Except there was nothing there. No witch. No Stiles. Just an empty cave.

He couldn’t help the howl of despair that was torn from his throat, he knew that the others were equally as distraught, that they were no doubt shouting in denial too, but he couldn’t hear them, couldn’t see them, all he could see was the look on Stiles’ face, his eyes filled with pain as she’d plunged the knife in to him. Stiles had been stabbed and now, now he wasn’t here, Derek didn’t know where he was, he was…Stiles was gone.

Derek wasn’t sure how much later it was when he finally looked around the room, Liam and Jason had recovered enough from Catherine’s exit that they had unchained Claire from the wall, laying her down carefully on the floor.

“Scott, you need to bite her.” Liam was saying, his voice soundly oddly far away to Derek. “Are you listening to me? Scott!” Liam shouted but Scott wasn’t moving, staring at the empty space in front of him with unfocused eyes, Isaac moved forwards first, taking unsteady steps and reaching out to touch Scott’s shoulder, shaking him gently.

“Scott, Scott, you need to bite Miller. You need to turn her.” Isaac insisted and Scott blinked at him blearily, it was obvious Scott was in shock, Derek was certain he was too, in fact, everyone in the room seemed to be trying to adjust to the fact that Stiles was gone, that he’d been stabbed and he was gone.

“Scott, son, you need to do it now or she’ll die.” Noah said quietly, his face pale, his voice trembling. His son had just been murder….no, Derek couldn’t think like that, Stiles wasn’t dead, he wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. She stabbed him but that doesn’t mean he was dead. He couldn’t be dead. “Do it. Otherwise Stiles,” Noah’s voice tripped over his name, “Stiles.” He said clearing his throat, “He would want us to save her.” 

It was this that pulled Scott out of whatever state of shock he was in, he crawled over to Miller. Biting gently into her wrist, hoping it would be enough to save her, all the time sobbing silently, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

Stiles wouldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be dead. Derek wouldn’t allow himself to believe that for even a moment.

 

Dean clung onto Sam with everything he had. He had almost lost his brother today, if it hadn’t had been for Scott then Sam would be dead. Now that that had sunk in, he seemed unable to let go of his brother, even as Frank, Leo, Cora, Allison, Erica and Percy approached them. Sam opened his eyes slowly, they flashed blue at Dean and he breathed in a sigh of relief. 

“Sammy, you’re okay, you’re okay.” Dean repeated, so glad to see his brother’s open eyes looking at him, watching with amazement at Sam’s injuries healed in front of him, as the cuts and bruises and damaged skin repaired itself, as the number on his wrist faded and only undamaged skin was left in its place.

“Stiles?” Sam asked, his voice cracking with disuse rather than pain. Before Dean had a chance to answer there was a roar that resonated through the caves. Dean and Sam were both up on their feet in a moment, Dean forgot about his own injuries, now that Sam was going to be okay, Dean needed to make sure Stiles was okay too, all of them running towards the source of the sound, Dean was a little frustrated that they were all moving faster than him but, they were all werewolves – apart from Allison – and even she hadn’t spent the past however long getting beaten up on a regular basis.

Dean entered the cave, acknowledged the body of the boss on the ground, saw Scott crouched over the body of the young female deputy who had been brought in earlier, saw the healing bite on her wrist. He looked at the broken faces around the room, but there was someone missing, the only face that Dean needed to see right now, the only one that mattered.

“Where’s Stiles?” He asked, terrified of what he was about to hear. 

“She took him.” Scott said quietly. 

“She killed him.” Liam said quietly, not expecting Scott to growl at him.

“No! No I don’t believe that! She took him and until I see a body to prove otherwise Stiles is alive and we will find him! Do you understand me!?” Scott snarled.

There was a silence in the room until one by one almost every single person in the room nodded. Dean looked at the one person who hadn’t nodded, the one that was still sat in the middle of the room, sat on the floor and staring at the empty space across from him with tear-filled eyes. He couldn’t remember seeing him come in with the rest of them, Dean was almost certain that he hadn’t been a fighter here, Dean didn’t know who the hell he was. 

He stared with amazement as the man in front of him seemed to curl in on himself and a moment later instead of a human being sitting in that spot, he had been replaced by the large black wolf that had attacked the guards with the rest of the pack. A moment later the wolf began to howl, it sounded so broken, so full of grief and heartbreak that Dean couldn’t help the tears spilling down his cheeks. 

“Derek.” Peter whined from next to Dean and Dean realised this must be the famous Derek Hale he’d heard a little about. He knew the man existed, Stiles had told him and Sam all about how Scott had been bitten and how their pack had come to exist. Dean knew that Derek had been there, the way Stiles talked about him, Dean had gathered there had been some kind of friendship there, perhaps more, not that Stiles had admitted to anything, he hadn’t known if Derek had reciprocated Stiles’ feelings, he couldn’t help but think that he wouldn’t have done, not if Derek had left the pack to be with Braeden as Noah had explained briefly. Except, standing here now, listening to the pure grief and despair in Derek’s howls, it was obvious that the man loved Stiles, that he loved him with everything he had.

“Derek, you have to shift back.” Cora whimpered a few minutes later but still Derek howled, so full of grief that he couldn’t think straight, “Scott, order him to shift back.” Cora instructed, “If he doesn’t shift back then he could get stuck like that. You’re his Alpha, order him to shift back.” 

“I can’t.” Scott whimpered, his voice breaking as he listened to Derek’s howls. 

“Just do it Scott.” Allison snapped, sounding like she was barely holding it together, not understanding what was going on, not understanding how this could be happening, how Stiles could be gone. Scott nodded in determination, his eyes flashing red as he crouched in front of Derek who only snarled at him. 

“Derek. Change back. Now.” Scott ordered, Derek snapped his teeth in Scott’s direction and Scott shifted out of reach so that Derek didn’t accidentally rip his throat out. “It’s not working.” Scott said. 

“Enough of this.” Malia said, moving forwards and crouching down in front of Derek, her eyes flashing blue and her teeth elongating as she growled at Derek, he only snarled in reply, his teeth bared and his hackles raised. “You think this will help bring him back?” She hissed angrily, “You think you whining right now is going to help Stiles? You’re not helping Derek, you’re just feeling sorry for yourself.” Malia growled. 

“Malia, don’t provoke him.” Peter warned, looking ready to step in between his daughter and his nephew, “He’s grieving for his mate, he won’t be thinking rationally.” 

“Grieving!?” Malia scoffed hysterically, “Stiles isn’t dead! He isn’t dead and I won’t believe it until I see a body! You want to help bring him home, you shift back and you help us! Otherwise you might as well turn around and run out on us again!” She shouted and Derek whined, sinking back on to his hind legs, sitting silently for a few moments before once again, the man appeared where the wolf had been. 

“You’re right.” Derek whispered, “I’m sorry. You’re right. We need to get him back.” 

“Glad we’re all on the same page.” Noah said and everyone nodded in agreement.

They would bring Stiles home. None of them would rest until they did.


	3. The Battle for Beacon Hills

One Week after the Event

It took Scott a week to realise that Percy wasn’t an alpha anymore. To be fair his head was all over the place, he was barely sleeping and when he did he always woke up screaming, the image of the witch, Catherine, he would never forget her name, her face, her scent, he would never be able to stop seeing her plunging the knife into Stiles’ chest, the memory of it burned forever into his brain. He knew the rest of his pack were holding up about as well as him, which was to say not at all. Derek had barely spoken to anyone, he was functioning, but only just, and Scott didn’t know how to help him.

The fact that it took Scott a week for him to realise that Percy was no longer an Alpha, well, he didn’t exactly blame himself, but, once he did realise, he spoke quietly to Percy, asking if they wanted to stay, or if they intended to go back to their own territory. 

Percy had stared at him like he was insane, unable to believe that Scott would be offering them a place in his pack without question. He’d explained that they wanted to stay, at least for the foreseeable, until they got Stiles back. Apparently, Leo seemed to have grown quite fond of Stiles during their time together and had informed Percy that he wouldn’t be leaving until he found Stiles. That, even if Scott hadn’t suggested they join his pack, they would be staying in town, that Leo was going to keep searching, that he wouldn’t stop, not until they found Stiles, or they found his body. Not that Leo had said that last bit out loud. 

Scott had nodded at Percy in agreement, he wondered if Stiles had any idea just how much he affected everyone who came in to contact with him? He thought back to that night, the look on Stiles’ face when he said that he didn’t deserved to be saved, that he wasn’t good enough, Scott wished with everything he had that he would get the chance to prove Stiles wrong. To show him how loved he was. How much everyone loved him and cared for him and wanted him to be safe.

He’d welcomed Percy, Frank, Leo and Jason in to his pack with open arms. Four more people searching for Stiles wouldn’t be a bad thing, they’d find him in no time, Scott was sure of it.

Dean had ordered Derek to take a wall with him, and, while they were out, he told him everything that had happened while Derek had been away. Together they’d figured out that Stiles’ voicemail would have been left the night he believed he’d killed Donovan, Dean had told him about everything that had happened as a consequence, Stiles and Scott’s argument, the fight in the graveyard, Donovan being alive, nearly killing them both, Stiles nearly dying and being in the hospital. Derek had been shocked, angry beyond belief at Scott, Dean had figured that was going to happen, which is why he’d insisted on talking to Derek away from the pack, away from Scott, so he couldn’t do anything stupid. Derek’s anger at Scott quickly turned to anger at himself, he should have been here, he should have never run off with Braeden, he should have picked up that message the instant it came in, hell, he should have answered his goddamn phone in the first place, Stiles needed him and he called and Derek hadn’t been there. 

“It’s not your fault Derek.” Dean tried to reassure him. 

“I should have been here.” 

“It wouldn’t have made any difference even if you were here. Unless you were literally going to be following him around like a stalker, Donovan would have found a way to do what he did, it would have ended the same way, or with Stiles dead instead, you couldn’t have known what Donovan was going to do and you couldn’t have been with Stiles every second of the day. You couldn’t have stopped it.” Dean reasoned, Derek fumed silently, clenching and unclenching fists until he finally started breathing normally again. 

“You’re right.” He said eventually, “I couldn’t have stopped it, I couldn’t have known what Donovan was going to do. I should have been here, but, if I hadn’t gone after the desert wolf, she would have come back and killed Stiles. I had to make a choice. I made the wrong one.” 

“No. You didn’t. You made the only choice you could with the information you had. I get your pissed Derek, I get it, I do. But getting mad at Scott or yourself, that’s not going to help him. We need to work together. We need to bring him home. Got it?” Dean said, teeth gritted with determination. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Okay, yeah, let’s do this, let’s bring him home.” Derek agreed. 

One Month after the Event

It took Scott a month before he admitted that they weren’t going to find Stiles quickly, both Sam and Claire had gone through their first full moon, and surprisingly it had gone reasonably well, Scott thought it was because they had a large pack to watch over them now. 

He thought back to his first full moon, how much he had struggled, how much Stiles had helped him to learn control. He wished with everything he had that Stiles was back here with him again. He’d do anything to make it happen. He wished it was him, wished Catherine had taken him instead, because if Stiles was here, he’d know what to do, he’d know how to get Scott back in an instant, and, Scott, Scott didn’t. He was failing Stiles every single second that he didn’t have a way to find him. 

Dean and Sam had made contact with a few other hunters, the ones they trusted, asking if there had been any incidents involving witches in the last month, hoping to maybe use that to somehow track Catherine down, trap another witch and get them to spill the beans on what Catherine had done, but, it was no use. 

Somehow, and none of them had any idea how, someone must have heard about Sam getting bitten and within two days the Winchesters were outcasts in the hunting community. Nobody would be telling them anything anytime soon. In fact, several of them threatened to hunt Sam down the second the phone call ended. They soon retracted their threats when Dean made it perfectly clear that if anything happened to his brother, Dean would be tracking them down and he would take his time making them pay. 

Oddly enough nobody came after Sam, but, the hunting community cut off all contact with both of them and Scott could tell that Sam blamed himself for that, that because of him, they’d lost a chance to find Stiles. 

Noah and Dean managed to pull him out of his pit of self-pity eventually, force him to realise that it wasn’t his fault and that blaming himself wasn’t helping Stiles. Instead Sam had concentrated his efforts on reading any book he could find about witches and magic, determined to find the spell that Catherine had used. 

Scott thought back to when he first met the Winchesters, how he’d thought they were trouble, unable to believe that Stiles was related to hunters, except, now, he couldn’t imagine not having them in his life, in all their lives, and he hoped, with everything he had, that they would all get that chance again.

They’d been able to miraculously find Stiles’ jeep and the impala and bring them back to Beacon Hills, although Stiles’ phone was still missing, Derek had spent a solid two days refusing to get out of the jeep because it smelled so much like him that Derek couldn’t bear the thought of never smelling that scent fresh again, that the last time he would ever smell Stiles scent would be that night in the caves, the acceptance of his fate, it made him feel sick. 

Two Months after the Event

Jackson turned up in Beacon Hills almost two months since Stiles had disappeared. He turned up at the Stilinski house, surprised to find a large pack living there, they’d all practically moved in straight from the caves, all taking comfort in the home that Stiles had last been in.

Jackson confronted Scott the instant he stepped out of the front door, determined to know why the hell he hadn’t called him and let him know. 

“I didn’t think you’d care.” Scott said wearily, worn down from the constant failure of not being able to find Stiles. 

“Didn’t think I’d care!?” Jackson shouted incredulously, “Of course I fucking care, it’s Stiles!” He roared.

It had taken Scott a good few hours to get the full story out of Jackson, how Stiles had gotten in touch with him after the Nogitsune, wanting to ask him how he dealt with things after the Kanima, after he had been used to kill people. They’d talked about it a lot actually, and Jackson wanted to believe that he’d finally gotten through to Stiles, finally made him believe, if only for a moment, that it wasn’t his fault. 

They’d kept in touch regularly after that, it might have been weeks between contact, but they still talked as often as they could, Stiles had kept him up to date on what had been happening in Beacon Hills, and Jackson told him all about his life in London, how much he missed everyone, how he was thinking of coming home. Of course, they still grated on each other’s nerves occasionally, Jackson calling Stiles a spaz on one particularly stressful skype session that had ended with Stiles looking hurt and Jackson feeling like a jackass. They hadn’t spoken for two months because Jackson hadn’t wanted to swallow his pride, but eventually Stiles had called him back and acted like nothing had happened, when Jackson tried to apologize Stiles had just brushed him off, so maybe they weren’t best friends, or hell, maybe even really proper friends, but there was definitely a fondness for Stiles that he hadn’t had before. So, when Stiles had told him that something was going on in Beacon Hills and that he’d be touch when it was over, and, when Jackson hadn’t heard from Stiles in just over two months, he’d then tried to get hold of him repeatedly, only to find out he was missing.

“The goddamn internet Scott, I had to find out over the internet that Stiles was missing!” Jackson was not happy with him at all.

“How was I supposed to know that you’d been talking? That you would want to know what was going on?” Scott argued. 

“You would know if you ever talked to him!” Jackson shouted in reply, “Do you know what he said to me the last time we spoke?” Scott shook his head, “He said that he couldn’t understand how he could be a pack member and still feel so alone, I offered to let him meet my Alpha and he said he didn’t want to destroy whatever relationship he had left with you. He felt so alone, so fucking alone Scott. And you kept pushing him away, you pushed him away and now he’s missing and why the hell didn’t you call me!?” 

Scott was speechless, he didn’t know what to say, Jackson was right, he was right and this was Scott’s fault and if he’d just kept Stiles close, maybe he would still be here, he wouldn’t be…Scott shuddered once again recalling the look on Stiles’ face, the pain in his eyes as she stabbed him. Tears spilled down his cheeks, it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair, it should have been him, he wished it was him. 

“Jackson, stop it.” Lydia scolded and Jackson turned to look at her. 

“No!” Jackson snapped in reply and Lydia stared at him in shock, “Sorry.” He apologized, “But, don’t you get it? He needed support, he needed friends, and, for whatever reason, you all pushed him away! So, of course, I’m angry. I should have brought Nick here, I should have made Stiles meet with him, I should have shown him what it looks like when you have people that care about you.” 

“Enough.” Peter snarled. “I get you care about Stiles, but so do we. All of us. We let him down. We know that. But when we get him back, and we’re going to get him back, we’ll fix that. You cannot and will not take him away from us.” Jackson glared at Peter for a moment before sighing. 

“It turns out I don’t have that option anymore. I told Nick that I was coming back here, to help look for Stiles, and he said that if I returned to my old pack, he wouldn’t be able to welcome me back easily, not unless I made it worthwhile for him to take me back.” Jackson scrubbed a hand over his eyes. 

“Yeah, it sure sounds like they care about you.” Dean mumbled sarcastically and Jackson rolled his eyes. 

“And it’s obvious that you and Stiles are related.” He commented and Dean smiled almost proudly. 

“Damn right we are, now, if you’ve calmed down, let’s all get back to what we were doing, we aren’t going to find Stiles by arguing with each other.” Dean said.

“Fine, how can I help?” Jackson offered and Scott gaped at him.

“You could go home? Back to your new pack? We’ll let you know when we find him.” Scott suggested. 

“No.” Jackson said firmly, looking to Derek instead of Scott, “I left because I didn’t know how to cope with everything, being the Kanima, then being a werewolf, then not really having a great pack around to support me, or an Alpha that knew what he was doing….” He explained. 

“Well, I’m not Alpha anymore so you don’t need to worry about that.” Derek input and Jackson shrugged. 

“From what Stiles told me, he explained, you were never meant to be an Alpha, you never had any training, and you never wanted to be either, you only killed Peter because otherwise Scott would have had to kill him and you were worried about Scott not turning back to human but becoming Alpha and it would drive him insane, since he was so new to everything.” Jackson said. 

“He said that…I mean…I never told anyone…how did he…what?” Derek muttered in shock. 

“He also said that you were never nasty on purpose, you just didn’t know how to be an Alpha, but that didn’t mean you weren’t a good person, and, once you weren’t Alpha anymore, once Scott became a ‘true’ Alpha, well, you didn’t have the same responsibilities and you could relax a bit, and, let someone else make all the tough decisions.” Jackson continued, “Plus, he said that none of my crap was your fault, and he was right, I forced you in to giving me the bite, and how I felt about myself, that’s why I turned into that thing, it wasn’t your fault, and, really, you managed to turn me into a proper werewolf and you gave Erica, Boyd and Isaac the option to escape really kind of crappy situations, and, well, Stiles made me realise, that, well, you’re not a bad guy, and, maybe I should have given you more of a chance before running off. He also said that if the two of you ever learned to work together then you’d be a great team, because Derek trusts nobody and Scott trusts everybody and if you worked together, well, you’d be able to make a real pack, a real family.” 

“Seriously?” Scott said in shock. “You killed Peter to help me? I always thought it was because you wanted to be Alpha.” 

“No.” Derek shook his head sadly, “I never wanted that, I never…all I wanted was…I wanted my family back, I wanted my home to be safe, I wanted a pack, and, I, um, I knew Stiles’ theory, about killing the wolf that bit you would turn you back to human, I knew it wouldn’t work, and I guess I knew if you became Alpha back then, it would have driven you crazy, I’ve seen what happens when wolves take power they aren’t prepared for. And, if you were crazy and an Alpha, killing you would be difficult, if I won, Stiles would have lost his best friend and it would always be my fault, and, if I lost, you would have killed Stiles too, so, I had to become Alpha, to, stop you from losing your mind and, well, and protecting him. And he was wrong. I don’t trust nobody. I trust him. With my life.” Derek admitted quietly and they all stared at him in surprise. 

“Even then?” Noah asked and Derek shrugged. 

“Pretty much from the instant I met him.” He replied quietly, “But, I didn’t think he was interested, he was in love with Lydia, and then he started dating Malia.” 

“Hang on, you’re in love with him?” Jackson said in astonishment. 

“Yeah, yeah, I am.” Derek said. 

“Right, okay then, well, that’s news to me. Stiles obviously had no idea, otherwise he would have told me.” Jackson said. 

“Apparently not, and, then, well, what she did, what she made me say…” Derek grimaced, his whole body tensing as he thought back to that night, those words ‘you disgust me’, the look on Stiles’ face, the scent of his acceptance, that of course it had to be true. No. He couldn’t think about that, he couldn’t fall back into that trap. “So, we need to focus on what we have. Anybody find anything else about what her spell might have been?” Derek pressed, moving back towards the book he had been studying before Jackson’s arrival. 

Everyone went back to work but Jackson pulled Scott to one side, explaining that he wasn’t going anywhere, and wouldn’t be until they found Stiles, maybe not even then, if Scott would have him in the pack. Scott had looked at him for a moment before bursting into tears, wishing that Stiles could see how much he meant to all these people. How he pulled them all together. Jackson had told him that he wouldn’t ever admit to it, but he’d give Scott a hug if it made him feel better. Scott wouldn’t ever tell anyone that Jackson clung to him just as much.

Three Months after the Event

John Winchester finally turned up in Beacon Hills. Apparently, he wasn’t overly impressed about the growing werewolf pack that he’d heard about. He was really not impressed that it appeared to include both his sons and the rumour that Sam had been bitten and turned, and that rather than Dean doing the right thing and putting him down, he’d been helping the pack and even threatening other hunters. 

He arrived at the Stilinski house, it still looked the same as it had done years before, except at that point he’d had Mary at his side and now she was dead and his boys were here in town somewhere. He’d barely stepped foot on the front path when the door opened and Dean and Sam both stepped out, walking down the steps towards him, Dean standing half a step in front of Sam, protecting him, as John had raised him to do. 

He couldn’t help but watch with widening eyes as a flood of people exited the Stilinski house behind them, all of them waiting on the front porch, obviously not wanting to get involved but making it clear that John was massively outnumbered, he couldn’t help his fingers twitching in the direction of his gun, feeling it’s steadying weight at his hip. 

“Boys.” He said in greeting and both Sam and Dean scowled at him. 

“Where have you been dad? We called, we must have called a thousand times, where were you?” Sam snapped. 

“I was busy tracking the demon that killed your mother, which is supposed to be our priority, or is avenging your mom no longer a concern of yours?” John replied angrily and Dean flinched slightly, as if the words had caused him a physical blow. 

“Of course it is.” Dean said reasonably, “But we can’t bring her back dad. Stiles is missing and there might be a way to save…”

“Who the hell is Stiles?” John interrupted. 

“Our cousin. Which you’d know if you didn’t cut off all contact with mom’s family the second she died!” Sam argued and Dean rolled his eyes, making sure to keep himself between the two of them, he would not let this come to blows. 

“I loved your mother. And her sister, god, her sister, she wouldn’t have kept you two safe. She didn’t know your mom, not really, I did. I knew your mom better than anyone else. And you know what? She’d be disappointed looking at the two of you right now. You know it’s your job to kill the monsters, not team up with them!” He raged at Sam and Dean, pointing at the crowd of people gathered on the porch behind them. 

Sam glanced back at the porch, he could see why his dad would be concerned. There were a lot of people there, Chris Argent, Isaac, Derek, Percy, Frank, Jason, Leo, Jackson, Miller, Lydia, Malia, Liam, Noah, Allison, Erica, Boyd, Cora, Peter, Melissa and Scott, not to mention Dean stood at his side, a half step in front of him, taking on a protective stance. Sam couldn’t help but feel love for his brother, it had always been Dean’s job to protect Sam, but he’d never protected him from their father before.

“They aren’t monsters dad. They are people. Just like us.” Dean tried to reason but John just scoffer, rolling his eyes in disgust. Noah and Scott both came down from the porch, and whereas Scott did his best to look as calm as possible, Noah was glaring at John with hatred in his eyes. 

“You stay out of this Stilinski. It’s none of your business.” John snarled. Sam didn’t mean to growl, he hadn’t expected it, but he didn’t have perfect control just yet, and the Sheriff had given them a home for the past three months, not to mention had lost his son, of course Sam was going to be a bit protective of him, especially considering his own father had abandoned them in those caves. That if he’d come when Noah called, maybe things would have been different.

John didn’t miss the noise and glared at Sam, his hand going to the gun at his hip.

“I heard rumours, but, god, I hoped it wasn’t true. Is it? Sam, are you one of them!?” He shouted, pulling out his gun, and levelling it in Sam’s direction. Sam could smell the wolfsbane in the bullets from here and he was shocked in to silence, his dad thought he was a monster, his dad was willing to shoot him. “Where the hell were you Dean!? You were supposed to protect him, not let him get turned into a monster.” John snapped, Dean didn’t have an answer for that, instead he squared his shoulders and levelled his dad with a glare that could make a grown man turn and run for the hills. 

“Where were you dad?” Dean replied but the scent of Dean’s guilt was still almost overwhelming for Sam.

“It’s your job to look after him, it always has been. And you failed. You turned him in to this.” John yelled.

“This wasn’t Dean’s fault.” Sam snarled, “Where the hell were you dad? We needed your help and you were off hunting some ghoul somewhere. Dean saved my life.”

“He turned you into a monster.” John interrupted.

“He’s not a monster.” Dean said, Sam had no idea how Dean could sound so calm, so detached, when the smell of his guilt, his fear, his anger, wafted through the air. “Sam is not a monster. None of them are.” Dean said gesturing to the crowd behind them. “They are a family.” 

“No, son. We are a family. Me and you. Let’s just get the hell out of this godforsaken town.” John replied.

“Me and you?” Dean asked surprised, “Shouldn’t it be me, you and Sammy, the way it’s always been?” 

“Sam’s not Sam anymore Dean. He’s been taken over by a monster. I’m sorry but Sam is dead.” John said. It was Dean’s turn to growl, even if it wasn’t quite as animalistic as the actual wolves. 

“He’s still Sam. He’s still my brother.” Dean snarled, Sam stood in silence, unable to believe that his father could speak that way about him when he was stood right here. 

John still hadn’t lowered his gun and the atmosphere was so tense it could be cut with a knife. It didn’t help that Malia was still struggling to control her wolf, she hadn’t been able to control it properly since Stiles had first been taken, and, no matter how hard they all tried to help, she hadn’t been able to choose a new anchor, it meant that whenever she got even a little bit angry, her eyes would flash blue and she would struggle with the control of her wolf. 

When Malia saw the gun pointed at Sam, by his own father, when he refused to lower it and called them all monsters, she couldn’t help her eyes flashing blue for the briefest second, drawing John’s attention. Derek, Peter and Cora all took a step towards her, having her family close helped, it wasn’t the same as Stiles being there, but, having blood relatives next to her, it definitely helped. 

Derek rested a firm hand on her shoulder, trying to help ground her as best as possible and she was so glad he was back, otherwise she was sure she’d be off in the forest somewhere, running free as a coyote, with no intention of returning, until they got Stiles back, Derek was the only thing keeping her even remotely human. She didn’t mind that Derek was in love with Stiles, she wasn’t really sure if she’d ever been in love, she knew she liked Stiles, that she enjoyed spending time with him and that she really missed him now he wasn’t here, but, she wasn’t sure she been in love with him, if Derek’s feeling were the comparison, it was clear to her that she never had been 

“They’re monsters.” John said firmly after looking at Malia. “I’m sorry Sam.” He said finally before levelling the gun at his chest and pulling the trigger.

Dean took that extra half step, putting himself between Sam and the gun, protecting Sam as he always tried to do. The bullet hit him square in the chest, knocking him backwards in to Sam and they both hit the ground hard, Dean handing half on top of Sam. Noah and Scott rushed forward, disarming John as he looked on in shock at his sons on the floor. 

“Hey Dean, it’s okay.” Sam said reassuringly, staring at the growing pool of blood, placing his hand over the wound in Dean’s chest, hating the fact that the blood was pouring through his fingers. Melissa was there the next moment, getting him to move his hand so she could assess the damage, shouting orders that Sam couldn’t process because his brother was bleeding out on the floor below him.

“Sammy.” Dean said coughing in pain, finally getting Sam to concentrate, bringing him back to the situation at hand. “It’s okay. Don’t panic. I’m okay.” 

Tears were running down Sam’s cheeks now. This wasn’t okay, this was so far from okay, they’d finally started to feel at home, feel like they belonged, and now Dean was being taken away from him. He wouldn’t survive it. Dean was his anchor, the only thing that kept him from losing control. If he lost Dean, god, he couldn’t think about it, couldn’t believe it. There had to be a way to save him.

“Scott, please.” Sam heard himself say when Melissa shook her head slightly, evidently unable to believe that this was happening, that a father would shoot his own son. Scott was there the next moment, hearing the distress in his beta’s voice. 

“What can I do?” Scott said, already knowing what Sam wanted. Dean had been quite insistent that he didn’t want the bite, they needed human members of the pack to do the human stuff that the wolves couldn’t. Could he really go against Dean’s wishes now? “Mom? Will he live otherwise?” Scott said, glancing at his mom’s tear-filled eyes, they already gave him the answer. Dean was quickly losing conscious, Sam was covered in blood and John Winchester was pinned to the ground, panting as he watched his son dying in front of his eyes, and at his hand.

“I’m sorry Dean.” Scott said, biting quickly into Dean’s wrist, praying that it would be enough.

Four Months after the Event

Dean had adjusted quickly to becoming a werewolf, which Scott couldn’t help but be relieved about. He’d never expected his pack to grow so much or so rapidly, he’d never even thought he’d have a pack, or be a werewolf, and, the worst thing, the thing that was so wrong, so messed up and unexpected, was that Stiles wasn’t with him. Scott could handle being a werewolf, he could handle being an Alpha, he could handle an ever-expanding pack, he couldn’t handle that Stiles wasn’t here. He’d always thought that no matter what happened in life, Stiles would be by his side, or only a phone call away, and now, now he was….none of them knew where he was, what was happening to him, if he was even still alive, and it was destroying them all, one day at a time.

John Winchester had been arrested for shooting his son, but, considering the bullet wound had healed, along with all his various other scars – including the number that had been burned into his wrist in the caves – they had no evidence to hold him. 

Noah had made it clear in no uncertain terms that if John ever returned, if he ever threatened his sons, or any of the pack, then Noah would come for him and it wouldn’t be with the weight of his Sherriff’s badge, he would be coming after John with everything he had and John wouldn’t know what hit him. 

John had not taken the threat very well, he’d tried to launch himself at Noah, Sam and Dean had grabbed him, their eyes both flashing blue before shoving him in the direction of his car. 

“You come near here again and we’ll kill you ourselves. We’re hunters. We kill monsters like you. Understood?” Sam snarled, his teeth elongating the slightest bit. John had looked at them both with disgust before getting in his car and driving away. 

It was on a pack trip out into the forest looking for any sign of Stiles, (although Scott didn’t want to believe it was a lost cause it felt more like it each day that there was no sign of him) that they came across the old Hale house. After Derek had explained the whole story to Dean and Sam, they’d gone back to the Noah’s, which had somehow become the pack house, Derek smelled of grief, of sadness, of loss, but, as the pack gathered around him, he gradually began to smell of acceptance, of love, of gratitude, of relief. It was a good smell, and Scott hoped it meant that Derek was finally beginning to heal from the loss of his family. 

It was a few days later when Peter and Cora suggested that perhaps they rebuild the old house, that they couldn’t all keep piling into the Stilinski’s house, that when Stiles returned home, he would probably want his room back. They’d all smiled at the optimism, and at the idea of Stiles’ face when he discovered that his room had basically devolved into a place for puppy piles every night. 

Derek had agreed, seemingly happy to agree with Peter and Cora’s idea because it was them. Scott was surprised by how much Derek had changed, how he seemed to be so much more at peace, of course he missed Stiles, and it was obvious that Derek wanted nothing more than to have Stiles home. But, he was accepting being part of the pack, contributing, making Beacon Hills his home again, that was all Scott could ask for. 

They’d started to draw plans up, trying to figure out just how much space they would need to accommodate the growing pack, Dean made sure that a room was included for Stiles because they would be bringing him home and there was no question in that, Stiles was alive, and they were bringing him back.

“We’re not having a bloody mansion Lydia!” Derek said when Lydia had insisted that they all have their own rooms.

“It wouldn’t have to be a mansion Derek. It just seems to me that some people are going to want their own space. And if you are wanting to make it a pack house, then you have to accommodate for the pack.” Lydia replied confidently, she’d finally stopped crying when Jackson returned home, Scott wasn’t an idiot, he knew that Lydia had never really gotten over Jackson, and, having him home made her feel better, it didn’t make up for Stiles being taken from her, from them, it didn’t stop her screaming herself awake most nights as she recalled that night, the look on Stiles’ face, the pain in his features as the knife dug in to his skin, Stiles was gone, and, even though Jackson was back, it didn’t make up for that fact. Scott completely understood why she would want her own room, he sure as hell wanted his own room too. 

“It would have to be like, at least twenty bedrooms.” Dean said astonished, him and Sam had always shared a motel room and that had worked fine. 

“Probably bigger if Scott has any intention of growing the pack.” Percy said calmly from the couch.

Scott had looked to him in astonishment, of course he didn’t, he wasn’t even sure how it had gotten this big. The thing was, it wouldn’t ever be whole, no matter how big he made it. It wouldn’t be whole until Stiles was back. He was about to say as much when Derek sighed heavily, as if reading Scott’s thoughts and trying to change the subject before his own mind turned down that dark path. 

“Fine. We’ll build a bloody mansion, but if it gets any bigger then you’re sharing rooms.” He said ending the conversation.

“I don’t have any issues with that.” Erica grinned at Boyd who pulled her a little closer to him and Derek shook his head, rolling his eyes fondly.

Six Months after the Event

Jackson cursed quietly as he ran through the preserve. His car had broken down at the side of the road about ten miles back and he was running the rest of the way to Noah’s house. Although they were rebuilding the Hale house, it wasn’t anywhere near finished yet, and he’d got a job at a law firm in the next town over, hating the fact that he was finally home, finally putting down roots and it was all without Stiles. He’d never thought Stiles would come to matter to him so much, that he’d sacrifice staying with his new pack just so that he could help with the search, but, Stiles was worth that sacrifice, and, if there was the added bonus of being back in Beacon Hills, back near Lydia, back at home, well, it wasn’t a bad thing. 

He was running late for the pack night and it was an important night tonight. Sam and Dean had eventually gotten in touch with an old friend of their dad’s, they’d debated it for ages, because they were sure he knew that they were werewolves and would probably try to shoot them too. Understandably they’d been quite hesitant about getting him involved, but he happened to know a lot about witches, so eventually they’d made contact. 

After filling him in on all the details of the past six months, including the fact that John had shot Dean in an attempt to kill Sam, the guy had agreed to see them and he was coming tonight to meet the pack and Scott had insisted that they all be there early, and now, now he was running late because his car had decided to fall apart, his brand new Porsche, which made absolutely no sense whatsoever. So, he was a little bit distracted when he was running through the preserve, but not distracted enough to not hear the sound of footfalls running parallel to him through the woods.

He slowed down, curious as to who else was running late, and the footsteps slowed down too. Suddenly he felt nervous, he wasn’t sure why, he was the scariest thing in this forest right now, but still, he was on edge. Something smelled wrong, something unnerved him. He straightened up, knowing that he was only a mile or so from the Sheriff’s house and he could probably just howl for help, but then everybody would come running and he’d look like a right idiot. 

“Who’s there?” He called out confidently, pulling out his phone and starting to dial Scott. 

A woman stepped into the clearing, she was tall, pale and thin, like scarily skinny, almost as if she hadn’t eaten in years, and her eyes were glowing, a brilliant vivid red. She was obviously supernatural and Jackson felt completely out of his depth. He took a step backwards and suddenly she was right in front of him, moving faster than his eyes could follow. He whimpered in fear, all thought of running away lost from his mind. 

He couldn’t run, couldn’t move, he was paralyzed, unable to look away from her, unable to defend himself. She grinned viciously at him, showing off a wicked set of second teeth that descended from her gums before plunging them into his neck. He tried to move away but couldn’t, couldn’t even call for help. He heard the rustling of leaves, knew someone was running through the forest towards him, but before he could even think that they would be too late everything faded to black.

 

Scott paced the house nervously, he had been worried about the whole pack being here, worried that Bobby would be overwhelmed, or wouldn’t have the information they need and then the whole pack would have to face the disappointment. Scott was beginning to run out of ideas, it wouldn’t be so bad if they had any idea where Stiles might be, but it was like he had vanished off the face of the planet, yes he knew he was stupid to hope that she’d kept Stiles around Beacon Hills, but the idea that he could be anywhere in the whole world was driving him slowly insane. He really hoped this Bobby character would be able to help them.

Everyone was here apart from Jackson and Frank. Frank had called earlier to say he wouldn’t be able to get out of work and he was very sorry but he was going to have to miss the meeting. It had annoyed Scott, but he at least understood, but Jackson, well, he was supposed to be here, and Scott was a little irritated, he’d told them all to be here early, Bobby’s only condition to agreeing to meet them was to make sure that they weren’t hiding anyone else from him. He shouldn’t be surprised that Jackson was late, but he was annoyed, especially when he knew how goddamn important it was.

The doorbell rung and the whole pack turned to look at it, Dean was the first to head towards it, glancing reassuringly at the pack. Bobby Singer stood in the doorway, he looked like he’d pretty much driven the whole way without sleep, his clothes looked old and worn, his eyes calculating as he took in the pack, his baseball cap firmly in place over his greying hair. 

“So, I hear you can control yourselves, is that true?” Bobby said without hesitation. 

“Yeah, we can Bobby. I swear we can.” Sam insisted. 

“Your daddy tells a different story.” Bobby replied. 

“Yeah, well, he also shot Dean, and his original target had been Sam., and whatever monsters he thinks we are, they are both still alive and so is he, which is more than he should be asking for.” Peter snapped. 

“And you didn’t kill him?” He said arching an eyebrow at Dean, who shook his head slowly, “That man threatened your brother, tried to kill him, I’ve seen you do a lot more for a lot less, and you didn’t kill him.” 

“He’s still my dad.” Dean muttered uncomfortably.

“But you’re letting him get out there and spread lies about you, about you attacking him, losing your mind, helping this pack grow, expand, create more wolves.” Bobby ranted, Dean only shrugged in reply. 

“He’s lying. That’s not what happened, he’s lying. You can’t believe him.” Lydia said sharply.

“John Winchester is capable of a lot of things, but shooting his son, either of them, I just can’t believe it.”

“Well believe it. Because that’s what happened.” Miller said authoritatively, there was a moment of silence and then, before anyone could say anything else, Bobby pulled Dean into a tight hug. 

“I’ve missed you boy.” Bobby said, Dean stepped back, a smile lighting up his features.

“Missed you too Bobby.” Bobby took a step into the room before moving toward Sam, he grabbed hold of the younger boy and pulled him into a tight hug too, tears were spilling from his eyes and he clutched him tightly.

“Hey Bobby, it’s okay.” Sam said calmly holding onto him.

“It’s damn well not okay you idjits. Your dad is a son of a bitch, but I’d never thought he would have done that.” He said gesturing to where Dean stood.

“It’s fine Bobby. We’re both okay.” Sam said trying to reassure the older man who had been a second father to them, before a moment later, Bobby turned to address the rest of the room at large. 

“So which one of you is the Alpha?” He addressed them and Scott stepped forward, holding out his hand to the older hunter in greeting.

“Mr Singer. I’m Scott McCall. Alpha of the Beacon Hills Pack.” Bobby shook his hand and Scott felt relief that the man had accepted them so willingly. 

“Right, well, I ain’t got all night so let’s get down to business.” Bobby said bluntly, gathering their attention.

“Mr Singer, sorry, I need to tell you one of my pack is running late, I’m sure he will be here soon though. And I’ve another who was unable to make it due to work commitments.” Scott said, wanting to be as upfront with the man as possible, he didn’t want any reason for Bobby to think they were lying to him.

“Alright then.” Bobby said after a moment’s thought, “And enough with the Mr Singer. It’s Bobby.” He made eye contact with the Sheriff, “And, I don’t know what I can do to help, but, if you tell me what you know, I’ll do my best to help you get your friend back.” Scott felt a rush of joy run through him, the way the man spoke, with such confidence, Scott knew that they would find Stiles and soon.

Before Bobby could say another word however Scott’s phone started to ring. He glanced at the screen and saw Jackson’s name come up. 

“I’m so sorry. I’ve got to take this.” He said to Bobby, answering the call, “Jackson where the hell are you?” He demanded as soon as the call started. There was no reply, just silence on the other end, which immediately concerned him, even if Jackson called him accidently, he would have heard Scott down the phone, it was one of the plus sides of werewolf hearing. He heard a small whimper, a sound he had never heard from Jackson before, and then he was dropping the phone and running for the door, Derek, Dean and Percy directly behind him, the rest of the pack spilling out into the back garden.

Scott headed towards the preserve, knowing that Jackson would have been coming along the road that ran alongside the forest. He didn’t expect to pick up his scent almost instantly as if he was just beyond the perimeter of the garden. 

He stopped at the edge of the garden, caught off guard, not quite sure what was happening, he could hear the rustle of the leaves as they were trampled underfoot. There was somebody coming towards the house, carrying something heavy from the sounds of things, he could smell Jackson, but there was somebody else with him, he must have been carrying somebody else, that would explain the smell of ozone that was invading his senses along with the scent of blood. 

“That heartbeat….” Derek mumbled, staring awestruck at the treeline, his whole body tense, as if afraid, as if terrified that what he was hearing was true, and even more terrified that it wasn’t.

A moment later two people stumbled into the garden, but Scott couldn’t process what he was seeing, because Jackson was unconscious, his form being held upright by the other person, blood spilling down his neck, but that wasn’t what Scott couldn’t believe. What he was staring at, and what he was sure the rest of the pack were looking at too, was the fact that he was being held up by Stiles.

 

Noah stood on the damp grass, a few steps behind Scott and the others, his hand resting on his gun, knowing from the way Scott was stood that they could well be under attack. What he hadn’t expected was for Jackson to appear a moment later and for Stiles to be the one keeping him upright. 

“Erm, a little help here?” Stiles said, obviously the strain of trying to keep the werewolf moving was taking its toll on him. 

Everyone moved at once, rushing forward to help them, pulling Jackson gently away from Stiles, lowering him to the floor, checking his pulse, he was still breathing thank god. But Noah only had eyes for Stiles, his son was stood there watching the scene unfold in silence. He was wearing jeans and a long black t-shirt, they were old and dirty and torn in places as if Stiles had been wearing them for weeks, he looked different and it took Noah a second to realise that Stiles had never stood still, and yet here he was, standing silently, watching the scene in front of him in silence, no movement, no constant stream of words spewing uncontrollably from his mouth, Noah studied his son, the way his eyes were harder, more guarded, but they were still the same eyes that had looked up at him with such love as a child.

Noah took a step forwards towards Stiles who took a step backwards, his stance defensive, ready to protect himself. 

“Stiles.” Noah whispered in awe, he wanted to say more, but his voice broke and tears spilled helplessly down his cheeks. His voice seemed to break the trance everyone else was in and suddenly they were all turning to Stiles, all gazing at him, refusing to blink for fear he’d disappear. Stiles was too still for a moment, eyeing them all warily; his body tense as if ready for a fight. 

“Stiles.” Noah said again, taking a stumbling step forward and practically falling into Stiles’ arms. He was crying, he couldn’t stop it, his son was here; he was alive. Stiles patted his back, and Noah could tell Stiles was uncomfortable, that he didn’t want to be hugging him, and of course Noah understood, the last words he spoke to his son were ones twisted with hate. 

“I’m sorry. God Stiles I’m so sorry.” He said sobbing into Stiles’ shoulder, when did his son get to be so much taller than him? And broader? Noah couldn’t think straight, all he could think was that his son was home, he was home, he was alive, he was safe. 

Stiles patted his back softly, muttering words of reassurance to him and Noah felt like the biggest jackass in the history of the world, his son had been kidnapped and then tortured, and then kidnapped again right under their noses, and god knows what had been happening to him in the six months since then, and yet here he was, being comforted by the very same son. But even knowing this he couldn’t stop the tears, couldn’t bear to let go of his son for fear he would disappear again. 

It was some time before Noah calmed down enough to recognize that he had fallen to the floor, wet knees from the damp grass, still clinging to Stiles like a toddler, Stiles still patting him gently on the back and reassuring him that everything was fine. 

Jackson was still lay on the ground in front of them, seemingly forgotten with the revelation of Stiles, the wound in his neck starting to heal, but Noah was just looking at Stiles with disbelief in his eyes. He would never let him out of his sight again. 

“So, Bobby works some serious magic skills then?” Leo joked, trying to break the tense atmosphere in the garden, glancing around at the rest of the pack, who all wore varying states of disbelief on their faces, “I mean he says, ‘yes I’ll help you find him.’ Poof! He’s here. That’s got to be serious magic.” Noah noticed how Stiles looked to Leo before locking eyes with Bobby.

“You’re a witch?” Stiles said quietly, his voice calm, Noah thought for a moment how his son sounded dangerous.

“No.” Bobby said immediately, “But I know a little bit about them. I know a little bit about a lot of things, just enough to make me dangerous.” He said grimly, as if cautioning Stiles that he was a dangerous man. Dean just snorted next to him before approaching Stiles and Noah. 

“You okay Stiles?” He said carefully.

“I’m fine.” Stiles said dismissively, rising to his feet and pulling his dad up with him.

“Where have you been man?” Scott said suddenly, “We’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Noah felt the muscles tense up under his touch before his son seemed to force himself to relax.

“Oh, well, you know, witch, kidnapping, more caves, eventual escape, home. Pretty boring actually.” Stiles said quickly, “But then as soon as I get back, I find this guy practically dead in the woods which means that I’m definitely back in Beacon Hills.” He grinned, poking Jackson with his foot and getting a groan in return.

Noah didn’t miss the way that his son had shrugged himself out of his grip, had taken a step away, distancing himself physically from all of them.

 

He listened to Stiles’ story, surprised when he didn’t hear any lie in his words, but something was different about him, he wasn’t the same person that Derek remembered, he looked exhausted, his emotions more hidden than they used to be, no flailing movements, no overexcited energy, he looked battle worn. Yet he seemed to be in one piece physically, admittedly the long t-shirt and jeans hid any scars, but he didn’t smell of blood or pain and that was at least one reassurance.

“Stiles, about that night…” Derek began, needing to tell Stiles, needing to make sure he understood. 

“Forget about it, it’s not important.” Stiles replied, knowing exactly which night Derek meant, how could he not. 

“No, I need to say, what I said…”

“She spelled you. I know. Catherine spelled all of you. Going over it won’t change anything. I don’t want to talk about it. So. Forget it.” Stiles said, his teeth gritted as if in anger and Derek nodded, seeing that Stiles didn’t want to talk about it, and he didn’t want to press the issue, not when Stiles already looked so on edge, he didn’t want to do anything to spook him.

“So how did you find him?” Derek said, gesturing to Jackson, before locking eyes with Stiles. 

“Huh?” Stiles said, as if not processing the question, his mind racing with a million other things, and just for a moment, there was the Stiles he remembered.

“How did you find him Stiles?” Derek repeated slowly, as if talking to an idiot, the way he always used to talk to him, he expected Stiles to grin, to gesture with his hands as he walked and explained his wild theory. 

“Oh, well, you know, wandering through the woods, and then boom, tripped right over him, probably need to pay more attention to my surroundings, but you know, these things happen. I had tried using my dog whistle, but obviously it didn’t work.” Stiles replied sarcastically and Derek couldn’t help but grin, even if he tried to hide it, he’d missed him, he’d missed him so much.

“And you didn’t think to just call one of us?” Derek said, frustrated by the way that Stiles was acting so casual, as if he wasn’t affected at all by their presence, like it was just any other day, that he hadn’t been missing for the pack six months when none of them knew where he was or what was happening to him or even if he was still alive. There was something wrong with the calm demeanour Stiles was putting on, he knew there would be a well of emotion in there; it just seemed to be blocked up. He knew how much he had broken down after his torture, how many nightmares he had had, hell, how many nightmares he still had about it. The idea that Stiles was fine was just idiotic. He knew that.

“Oddly enough Der, I didn’t have a phone on me.” Stiles said, a forced smile on his lips.

“Where did you come from?” Percy said, seemingly genuinely curious.

“You know I’m not entirely sure. Geography never was my strong point.” Stiles replied, amusement in his voice, but there was no warmth behind it, nothing that made Stiles, well, Stiles.

“You’re being evasive.” Derek demanded.

“Weird. I thought I’d been pretty honest.” Stiles said, raising an eyebrow at him. Derek suddenly remembered why he found Stiles so amazing, he had the ability to get under his skin, make him want to scream in frustration and laugh in delight in equal measure. “Anyways, don’t we have bigger things to think about than the return of the prodigal son. Jackson here got attacked.” 

At that choice of words Jackson decided to open his eyes, looking up from the ground groggily, seeming to not notice that Stiles was one of the people stood around him.

 

“What the hell happened?” Jackson said carefully, not liking how the words echoed in his head, sitting up slowly to stop the world from spinning, touching his neck gently, expecting there to be a large wound there.

“That’s what we want to know.” Scott said quietly, sounding unnerved for some reason. Jackson took a moment to gather his thoughts, suddenly remembering the woman in the woods.

“There was a woman, I think she attacked me.” He started, there was a small laugh from someone next to him.

“Dude, the big, bad, wolf got taken down by a woman.”

“Shut it Stilinski.” Jackson growled automatically, before seeming to register what he had just said. He turned around, his eyes wide as saucers as he locked eyes with Stiles.

“Stiles!” He said breathlessly, practically throwing himself at him, jumping up from the ground and nearly knocking Stiles over as he hugged him tightly. “You’re back.” Jackson said pulling back to look at Stiles, as if trying to get his eyes and his brain to agree. “You’re home.” He said quietly, pulling Stiles back into a hug, and, not that he would ever admit to it, there were definitely tears in his eyes, however, if anyone asked, he merely had allergies.

 

Bobby didn’t like this, he wasn’t sure how, but somehow this Stiles kid was back. He wanted to believe it was really him, for Sam and Dean’s sake, he wanted them to have their cousin back, have a better family than their dad had given them, but he’d learned the hard way that things never really ended happy, not when the supernatural was involved. 

“If you don’t mind Stiles. I’ll like to just do a quick few checks, you know, make sure you are who you say you are.” Bobby said, ignoring the incredulous looks he was receiving from the pack.

“Don’t be stupid. Of course, it’s Stiles. I mean look at him.” Malia argued, her eyes flashing blue slightly and Bobby shook his head sadly.

“I’ve seen a lot of things that can make themselves look like anything. I just want to make sure that you really do have your Stiles back, not someone or something impersonating him.” He said slowly, trying to evaluate the mood, he really didn’t want to end up as werewolf chow. 

“Bobby’s right, there’s a lot of things out there that can make themselves look like someone else.” Dean agreed. 

“Yeah, but, it’s Stiles. His scent’s different, but, his heartbeat is the same. It’s him.” Derek insisted.

“It’s no big deal. I’ve got nothing to hide.” Stiles said surprising him. “What do you need me to do?” Bobby nodded to him in appreciation before looking to the rest of the pack. 

“Perhaps you’d like some privacy?” Bobby said, thinking that if he had to kill this thing wearing the kids face, he’d rather not do it in front of everyone. 

“Sure.” Stiles said again. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” The sheriff said quickly, standing near to his son, but not touching him.

“Me neither.” Scott said, eyeing Bobby dangerously.

“I’m staying right here.” Dean said, knowing what Bobby was thinking. Bobby hoped that there was enough of a hunter left that he would help kill this thing if it wasn’t Stiles, if it wasn’t his cousin, if he reacted to any of the tests. Dean nodded as if reading his mind. If this wasn’t Stiles, Dean would kill it without hesitation.

“All right. But everyone else should go inside. Relax. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Everyone else shuffled inside, glancing back at the few people left outside, glaring at him and then turning to look at Stiles. Bobby noticed the last to leave the garden was the man who had been so insistent this was really Stiles, due to his heartbeat, Bobby rolled his eyes, he wasn’t sure what abilities werewolves had, but, he was almost certain that they couldn’t tell individual heartbeats apart. The man had spent more time looking at Stiles than at him, as if he would never be able to drag his eyes away. Bobby let out a little huff of laughter. Young love.

“Alright then. Let’s do this.” Stiles said, shaking his limbs to try and ease some tension from them. Bobby nodded, trying to look at him with a hunter’s eye, to not see the kid that was young enough to be his son. He took a step forward, pulling out his flask of holy water.

“Drink.” He said firmly, Stiles did as he was told, and Bobby let out a little sigh of relief. “Okay so you’re not a demon.” Stiles let out a quiet laugh.

“Guess not. What’s next?” Stiles said, eyeing up the salt and silver blade that Bobby had pulled out. 

“Don’t worry kid, I’m not about to stab you, just a little blood will be fine.” Bobby said in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. It took him a little while, but, eventually there was only one test left to carry out, and it would be the one that was most risky, if Stiles had been where Bobby thought he’d been, this would be the moment that Bobby’s life was most at risk. 

“So what next?” Stiles asked. 

“I want to check your gums.” Bobby said. 

“His what?” Noah asked. 

“His gums.” Bobby repeated, “Prolonged periods around a witch can result in nasty consequences, such as discolouration of the gums, yellowing of the skin, burst blood vessels in the eyes, I could go on, but, it’ll start with the gums, if he’s experiencing any of the side effects, it’ll start in his gums, so, let me examine them.” 

“Sure, if you want to.” Stiles shrugged, opening his mouth wide and Bobby couldn’t help but be nervous, bracing himself for attack as he reached forward, pulling Stiles’ lips slightly to examine his gums, pressing on them firmly and sighing in relief when there was no reaction, Bobby felt himself relax for the first time all night. 

“So, it’s definitely Stiles?” Scott asked and Bobby couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“Yeah.” Bobby said evenly, breaking into a grin when Scott threw himself at Stiles, pulling him into a long hug. 

“We should go inside.” The Sheriff said eventually and Bobby nodded.

“I just want a private word with young Stiles here if that’s okay?” Bobby asked, looking to Stiles who nodded in agreement, still eyeing Bobby warily. Once the others had disappeared into the house he looked to Stiles, “Are we still in earshot?” 

“Walk with me a second.” Stiles said, moving to the far end of the garden and then nodded, indicating that they were now out hearing range of the wolves.

“The witching realm?” Bobby said, Stiles just nodded solemnly in response, his mouth a hard line. “The whole time?” He asked. 

“Yeah.” Stiles replied quietly. 

“Shit kid. I’m sorry.” Bobby said, his stomach sinking. 

“It happens.” Stiles said quietly seeming to know that Bobby understood the extent of those few words. 

“Come on, let’s go inside.” Bobby said heading towards the steps, Stiles a step behind him.

 

He hadn’t expected the whole pack to be there. When he’d dragged Jackson off the ground and headed towards his father’s house, which he knew was only a few minutes away, he hadn’t expected them all to be there. Waiting for them.

He’d done his best to keep his heart rate stable, knowing that they would all be able to hear it otherwise, that they’d know that he was going out of his mind with panic right now. Because he’d never expected to see them. His plan had been to dump Jackson on his dad’s doorstep and then get the hell out of there. He couldn’t deal with seeing them, Catherine had shown him how well the pack was doing without him while they’d been in those first caves, he didn’t want to be here now, he didn’t want to see how they would have flourished in his absence, he didn’t want to actually have to face them, to actually have to hear the words that he was out of the pack, that he didn’t have a home anymore. 

He’d wanted to run but it was too late for that, he knew he wouldn’t be able to, not with them all there staring at him. Which meant he’d done the only thing he could do and faced them head on, waiting for the words that would finish the job of breaking his heart. He had braced himself for the impact of their words, except suddenly his dad was hugging him, repeating over and over how sorry he was and crying all over Stiles. 

Stiles understood the guilt his dad must have been feeling. After all, his dad wasn’t heartless, of course he would have felt guilt over watching somebody get stabbed right in front of him; it didn’t matter if it was a stranger, or Stiles, or one of the pack, his dad would always feel guilty about it. So he’d told his dad that it was okay, that he was okay, just to ease some of his guilt.

He’d been waiting for the next blow, waiting for Scott to tell him he was still out of the pack, but he hadn’t said that, that was probably because of guilt too. Then Derek was quizzing him and of course he felt a bit defensive, he’d been through hell and here they were asking him where he’d been and what had been going on and maybe he didn’t want to dissolve into tears in front of them. Not when they’d just send him away afterwards. He didn’t want to open up, he didn’t want to get hurt. Then of course Jackson was hugging him, and then Bobby wanted to test him, and he wasn’t going to deny that he’d been a bit hurt by that, but he understood where the guy was coming from, probably trying to protect himself and the pack, after all Stiles knew a lot about people pretending to be someone else. 

Then Scott was hugging him, holding him tightly, like he hadn’t thrown Stiles to the wolves, or witches in this case. Of course he could understand that Scott felt guilty about that too, it was probably the only reason they were keeping him around. The guilt. So when Bobby had asked him about the witching realm with genuine concern in his voice it had caught him off guard and he’d nodded before he could stop himself. The muttered curse and apology weren’t much, but it made him think that maybe Bobby knew a bit more than he let on, and maybe, maybe he’d know just some of the crap that he’d gone through.

Stiles had followed him up the steps to the house, he didn’t want to think of it as home, he wouldn’t think of it as home, because it couldn’t be. If he let them in, even the slightest bit, then they’d waste no time in destroying him he was sure, as soon as they stopped feeling guilty, they’d find him annoying, a liability, a danger to them all over again and then they’d kick him out, destroy him once and for all. 

He knew how to protect himself now, he wasn’t the same person he was when he’d left, but as much as he might be able to protect himself physically, he wouldn’t be able to stop the emotional hurt from them, because despite everything he told himself, his heart couldn’t deny that he still cared for these people, that he would always care for them. 

They were all sat expectantly in the living room, as if waiting for him to launch into the story of where he had been and what had happened in the time since his disappearance and he really couldn’t face it right now. 

“So, what are you going to do about this woman who attacked Jackson?” He asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from him. 

“She was a vampire, I think anyway, although she had like a second set of teeth, not like a normal vampire with just the set of fangs.” Jackson supplied whereas Sam, Bobby and Dean all just nodded wearily.

“Yeah, that’s definitely a vampire. Did you notice anything else?” Dean asked cautiously, one eye still on Stiles as if expecting him to vanish from where he stood.

“Well, she had red eyes, and she was skinny, like really skinny, like she hadn’t had a good meal in a long time.” Jackson said quietly. Stiles noticed how Jackson, and the rest of the room, kept shooting glances at him, as if he would disappear if they looked away for more than a couple of seconds. 

“And she fed off you?” Bobby asked, his voice one of disgust. Jackson nodded, he figured that was pretty obvious. “Hmm, never heard of a vamp going after wolf blood.” Bobby said more to himself than anyone else. “Never heard of one with red eyes before either.”

“Why aren’t you dead?” Sam asked, to which Jackson just shrugged, “Vamps don’t leave victims alive, they physically can’t, once their teeth sink in, they can’t stop until the victim is dead, it’s why they are at their most vulnerable when they’re feeding.” Jackson just shrugged again.

“I don’t know. I mean I remember calling Scott and then she was on me, and everything went black and I woke up in the garden.” Jackson said, his gaze coming up to look at Stiles again.

“Don’t look at me.” Stiles said, shrugging slightly, “I told you, I tripped over him.” He knew the wolves would be listening to his heart beat, he prayed that it stayed steady. After a moments silence Scott nodded and the conversation continued. Stiles let out a tiny sigh of relief, glad that it was only Derek that looked at him suspiciously, and really, Derek had never liked Stiles, Stiles disgusted him, he’d said it himself, Derek had trust issues at the best of times, trusting someone who literally made him feel sick every time Derek had to look at them, it was no wonder he was looking at Stiles like he was angry and confused and unable to figure out Stiles’ motives for lying, he was probably trying to figure out how much of a threat Stiles was to the pack, after a moment Derek looked away from Stiles, turning his gaze back to the rest of the pack and Stiles knew that Derek thought he was no threat whatsoever.

Stiles was exhausted and the warm room and the hum of voices was making it very hard to keep his eyes open, but he knew from experience what would happen when he closed his eyes, so he fought to keep himself awake. Almost an hour later the conversation had dwindled down, more and more glances were directed his way and he was finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes open. Admittedly he had an excuse to be so tired, he’d had to fight for his life, more so than usual, then had to run for his life for at least the past few days, and then he’d got shoved through a portal and ended up back in the woods, and he couldn’t even say when the last time he had slept was. He was allowed to be tired, but he couldn’t tell them that, they couldn’t be trusted, they only wanted him around to ease their guilt. He knew that. He cleared his throat and every eye in the room turned to him. 

“I’m really tired…” He’d been about to continue that he should get going but his dad cut him off.

“Of course Stiles. You head up to bed. I’ll make sure everyone stays quiet.” 

“Oh. Erm. Right. Okay then.” He said, confusion sweeping across his features, why were they letting him stay here? It didn’t make any sense. 

“Sorry guys, but you’ll have to stay down here tonight.” He heard his dad say as he started up the stairs, “Don’t give me that look, you’ll be able to stay in the new house soon enough.” 

Stiles trudged up the stairs, his heart sinking with every step. So, his dad had replaced him easily enough, let other people have his room, and then there was the new house. Obviously, they had no intention of him staying with them. This was a cruel prank, they were going to trick him into breaking down his walls and then they would throw him away. He wondered momentarily if this was one of Catherine’s tricks. She always was very good at manipulating him, this would probably be the thing that broke him, to see them all again, only to find out it was a trick.

 

Lydia waited until Stiles had disappeared to broach the subject. She’d wanted to run to him the moment she saw him, wanted to wrap him up in a hug and hold him and tell him how much she cared about him and how relieved she was he was home, but he’d been so defensive. He wasn’t the same boy she’d known six months ago, he’d changed. Which she knew was perfectly understandable, god only knew what he’d been through, but no matter what had happened in the past he’d always been able to speak to them, tell them what was going on. Other than with Donovan, but, that had been an exception. She guessed this was probably an exception too, she had no idea what Stiles had been through, but, the thought that he was dealing with it alone, that was the worst thing, it made her heart physically ache.

“Are we going to talk about Stiles?” Lydia asked the room at large. She was met with silence. “He’s not okay.” 

“Of course he’s not okay.” Leo said surprising Lydia, she hadn’t thought anyone else would agree with her, but the nodding of heads around the room proved she’d been mistaken.

“You don’t know what it was like down there Lydia, you weren’t there. The things that she did to him…” Dean shuddered, “And that’s just what we know. We don’t know what’s been happening the past six months. We don’t know what he’s had to deal with. He’ll talk to us when he’s ready. Don’t force it.” 

 

“Six months?” Bobby asked looking almost stunned, “That’s how long he was gone?” 

“Yeah.” Dean replied with a whisper, Bobby looked like he was about to be sick, but, he grimaced, clenching his fists tightly before turning towards the kitchen. 

“You got anything to drink?” He asked and Noah stood up, pulling out a bottle of whiskey which Bobby snatched and poured a generous amount into the nearest glass, trying to keep his breathing under control, six months in that hell, no wonder Stiles wasn’t the same, he didn’t know that anyone would ever be. Dean and Sam both raised their eyebrows at him, silently asking if everything was okay, Bobby waved them away, he wouldn’t be the one to spill the kid’s secret, not on his first night back. 

 

Erica sat silently, listening to Lydia’s words, of course she didn’t want to push Stiles into talking when he wasn’t ready, but, Scott always made them talk about things, he always insisted it was better to get things out in the open, no secrets, so that nobody felt alone, so that things like Donovan never happened again. She was about to say as much when Scott shook his head at Dean. 

“Stiles is good at not dealing with things until they become a real issue. If we just wait for him to talk about it then he could end up not dealing with it at all, or it becoming a major issue, which none of us want. I think it would be better to talk to him about it.” Scott said reasonably, there were a few murmurs of agreement but it was obvious the pack weren’t all certain about Scott’s decision.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Peter input, “He’s already said he doesn’t want to talk about it. He knows what happened, that she spelled us to say those things, we don’t know what she did to him in the in between time, but, he’s home now. I don’t think we should push him. Let him open up to us, in his own time.” Peter suggested.

“Alright, I agree that we talk to him about it, but not yet, just give him a little bit of time, let him get used to the fact that he’s back first. Then we can talk. And I’ll be the one to talk to him okay? He’s my son. I’ll deal with it.” Noah said finally, effectively ending the conversation.

Erica nodded, understanding his reasoning and trying to hold herself together for a little bit longer, just until she got out of here, until she could cry into Boyd’s shoulder. Usually she’d go up and sleep in Stiles’ room, along with anyone else who was missing him, try and soak up anything that still held his scent, curl up on his bed and pretend that he was still there with them, but now he was up there and she couldn’t even pretend that it would be okay to go up there and see him now. 

Everyone had just assumed that Erica had held it together okay, because she’d forced herself to, she had to be strong because everyone else was falling apart. Lydia had barely stopped crying and Scott was doubting every move he made, Derek hadn’t spoken to anyone in the first few days, and even now he didn’t speak as much as he should do, everyone had blamed each other for what happened to Stiles, everyone stank of guilt and grief and despair, and Erica had had to hold it together. She had to be the strength that they were missing. But she’d missed Stiles so much and now he was home and she wanted to stop being strong, she wanted to hug him and tell him how much she’d missed him and she wanted someone else to be strong while she wasn’t, but, she couldn’t do that to Stiles, not right now. She needed to give him time, let him adjust to being home first. 

 

Stiles had been home a week and Malia still wasn’t sure that she believed it, she kept expecting him to vanish the second she opened her eyes, convinced it was sure kind of dream. 

Noah had tried to speak to Stiles a few days after his return, they’d all thought it was the right thing to do, that speaking to Stiles would be the only way to get him to open up. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something Stiles.” Noah said seriously and Stiles had looked up at him from where he was sat at the table and waited patiently for his dad to continue, “About that night…”

“No.” Stiles said firmly. 

“Stiles, we need to talk about it, we need to talk about what she did, that night, and what she did to you afterwards.”

“No.” Stiles repeated. 

“Stiles, please, we need to know what happened…”

“What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand?” Stiles snapped, standing up abruptly and heading for the back door. 

“Stiles, wait…” Noah tried. 

“No. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t care that you want to, I don’t care that I’m being selfish. I’m not talking about it. If you want to talk about it, do it without me here.” Stiles said before storming out of the back door. 

They’d all stared on in horror, unable to believe that Stiles had reacted so badly to Noah even attempting to broach the subject, Jackson had been the one to go after Stiles, the only one not there that night, the only one that seemed to be able to calm him down. 

Jackson had returned half an hour later, explaining that Stiles was out for a walk and didn’t want any company but he’d be back later. They’d all wanted to go after Stiles, to apologize, to make sure he came home, but, none of them wanted to push any further, they didn’t want to push him away completely. 

“Maybe we were wrong.” Noah whispered, “Maybe talking to him about it isn’t the right move.” 

“You think?” Cora muttered sarcastically. 

“I think maybe it’s best if we give him some more time, let him know we’re here, ready to listen whenever he wants to talk, but, we’re not going to pressure him. Sound fair?” Sam suggested and they all nodded in agreement. By the time Stiles arrived home it was going dark and he looked exhausted, it was obvious that he was upset, his eyes still rimmed with redness from where he’d been crying, but, he didn’t mention it and neither did any of them. 

“I’m sorry for shouting.” Stiles said evenly, “I can’t talk about it. If you want to, then fine, I’ll accept whatever you have to say.” He sounded like he was bracing himself for bad news and Malia felt sick with nerves, she hated seeing Stiles look so broken.

“No, no, it’s fine. It doesn’t matter Stiles.” Noah reassured him, “Look, if you aren’t ready…”

“I never will be. But, you guys obviously are, so I’ll deal with it…”

“No, you don’t have to deal with anything you don’t want to. We’re here for you Stiles, when you want to talk, then we’ll be here, okay?” Noah said and Stiles looked like he was about to burst into tears again before he nodded in silence and went upstairs to his room.

The entire pack all went across to the Sheriff’s house in the mornings, those of them who hadn’t stayed the night before, she wanted to stay every night, but, now Stiles was sleeping in his room, there wasn’t space for all of them to stay so they took it in turns, making sure everyone stayed as often as possible, the only one who refused to stay away for the night was Derek, he stayed at the house no matter what. Malia tried not to be annoyed, because Stiles wasn’t Derek’s anchor, he might love him, be in love with him, but, he could still manage a full shift when Stiles was missing, he could still keep control of his wolf, and Malia couldn’t, and it wasn’t fair that he got to stay every night when she really wanted to stay every night too.

Instead, to try and compensate for not being there every night, she tried to stay as close to Stiles as possible, he settled the animal inside her like nothing else had or ever would. She was sure that he’d realized it as well and he’d even given her a small smile once or twice in the last week, it was nothing like the one he used to share with her, the wide grin like he was proud of her, like he cared about her happiness, this was more like a twitch of his lips before he’d suddenly become sombre and distant again. She wondered if this was normal, if Stiles was like this because they weren’t dating anymore, if that was the case, she would happily date him again, anything to see him smile at her again, anything to hear him laugh and flail and be happy. 

As it was, this version of Stiles, the quiet, reserved, almost withdrawn version, it was driving Malia slowly insane. This wasn’t the right Stiles that she needed as her anchor, he was home, and that was enough to stop her from going completely feral, but, her anchor, her Stiles, he was happy, he was loud, he was energetic and loving and this Stiles just wasn’t. She didn’t think he hated her, but, he kept her at a distance, kept all of them at a distance. Still, in order to be able to control her wolf as much as possible, she had to keep close to him, she had to be near him at every opportunity, in order to keep herself sane.

She sat next to him every morning at breakfast and it settled her, but by the middle of the night she needed to see Stiles again, needed to know he was okay, that he was still here, that the Stiles she had known before was still in there somewhere, not this shell, that was cold and distant and laughed humourlessly, darkly. 

She’d spend the rest of the night tossing and turning and she’d get to the Sheriff’s house as soon as it was deemed an appropriate time just so that she could see Stiles again and she could breathe easily again. Then each day she’d go to the new Hale house, work until she was dead on her feet and then go to the Stilinski’s or to Derek’s old loft and collapse into a sofa or bed or even the floor in the hopes of sleeping through the night. 

The house was coming along nicely now, another week or two and they would all be able to move in, to settle into their home, she liked that word, that this would be their home. As much as she enjoyed staying at Noah’s, or sleeping at the loft, none of it had ever felt permanent, it had only been temporary, until they got Stiles back. Except he was back and the house was nearly built and this was going to be their home, permanently. 

She went to the room that was going to be Stiles’, she’d been the one to pick it for him, she knew he’d love the bay window that looked out over the forest, the bookcase that was set in a small nook, just enough room for the bookcase and an armchair, Derek had filled the bookcase with random comics and books - she didn’t recognise half of them but Derek insisted that Stiles would like them - and the large walk in wardrobe that she’d filled with plaid shirts. It had been a long running joke between them once upon a time, she wasn’t so sure about it now though, Stiles hadn’t touched plaid since his return, in fact he stuck to jeans, a long sleeve t-shirt and occasionally a hoodie. She missed the old him.

Bobby had stuck around, Derek had even offered him a room to stay at the loft until he wanted to return home. Bobby had accepted gratefully, saying it was necessary for him to stay until they’d taken care of the vamp which had somehow alluded them so far. Jackson had said she was fast, but Malia was almost certain that there was no way she could outmanoeuvre all of them, they were werewolves, Malia had to believe that one vampire wouldn’t be able to outsmart an entire pack of werewolves. 

She had been awake since four this morning, tossing restlessly, her heart telling her she had to go and check on Stiles, her brain trying to tell her that he was fine and that he’d be asleep. In the end though her heart won out and she decided she’d go and check on him, she didn’t need to wake him up, just slip quietly into his room and check he was still there and then she’d go again. She padded across the floor, threw on some clothes, tiptoed past the pack members still sleeping at the loft and then was out the door. 

The sun was just starting to rise when she got to their house, she knew how to get to Stiles’ room, she’d done it so many times before, so she climbed the tree gracefully and then leaped onto the roof, she slid down to his window and opened it easily, her feet landing lightly on the carpet. She looked across at Stiles, he was asleep in his bed, the covers kicked out of the way, he was wearing another long sleeve shirt and a pair of cotton bottoms, his hair plastered to his head as he tossed in his nightmare.

She hadn’t known he was having nightmares, no-one had mentioned it, but the way he was tossing and turning right now, the little whimpers of pain he was letting out, there was no doubt he was suffering. How could nobody know about this? How could they be letting him sleep through this? How come none of the wolves that were sleeping downstairs hadn’t heard this? How come Derek hadn’t already barged in and woken Stiles up to make sure he was okay?

“Stiles.” She whispered gently approaching the bed, she wanted to keep her voice low just in case anybody was actually sleeping through this, although she didn’t know how they could, it was heart breaking to witness. When Stiles didn’t wake up she tried again, inching closer to the bed. “Stiles.” She repeated a little louder. She reached out and touched his arm gently. Stiles’ eyes shot open and then suddenly she was flying backwards, hitting her head against the wall as she landed. “What the hell!?” She shouted, not caring now if she woke anyone else up, because Stiles had just shoved her across the room without even touching her.

She looked at him with wide eyes, Stiles was still sat in the bed, his breath coming in pants as if he’d just run a marathon, his eyes wide with panic and she instantly fell silent. She stood up slowly, confused why no-one had come running yet, and raised her hands in what she hoped was a sign of surrender. 

“Stiles. It’s me. Okay. It’s okay. It’s me.” She said calmly, taking a step forward, registering when his eyes locked with hers.

“I knew it was a trick. I knew it was only a matter of time. Are you going to take me back now?” He spat angrily.

“Stiles.” Malia said, the confusion evident in her voice, “It’s Malia. I’m not taking you anywhere. It’s me. I promise.” She said taking another step forward, trying to calm herself when Stiles’ eyes started to glow a bright gold, it was kind of fascinating to witness, but she couldn’t think about that right now, Stiles was obviously confused, she had to reassure him.

“If you really are Malia then what the hell are you doing here?” He said quietly, his voice low, and Malia felt herself shiver involuntarily, he sounded dangerous, he looked dangerous, for the first time, she realised that Stiles was a hell of a lot more powerful than her and if she wanted to live, she needed to submit to the man who could kill her instantly if he felt like it, she really hoped he wouldn’t.

“I needed to see you. I couldn’t settle. You were having a nightmare.” She said honestly, trying to keep her heart as calm as possible, she knew that was foolish, Stiles couldn’t hear her heartbeat, although she wasn’t sure if that was true anymore. This Stiles looked like he was capable of anything. 

“I don’t believe you.” He said coldly, his eyes still glowing dangerously.

“You always used to have nightmares. When we were together. I think you didn’t like me knowing about them, like it made you weak or something. But, I’ve never thought you were weak. You’re my anchor Stiles, you always have been, and you always will be. And even though we aren’t together anymore, that doesn’t change. I’ve been so lost these past few months. I needed you. And you weren’t here.” She saw the look of pain on Stiles’ face and regretted her words. “That wasn’t your fault though. I know you would have been here if you could. I just…” She stumbled over her words, “I just, I guess, I just needed to know you were okay, because you’re the person that keeps me human, and, I just, I wanted to know that you were okay.” 

It took a minute before Stiles’ eyes stopped glowing and then he motioned to the bed next to him, still eying her suspiciously, as if he still wasn’t sure if this was true, if he wasn’t dreaming. Malia took a seat on the bed next to him, breathing his scent in, letting it calm her. 

“Are you going to tell me how you threw me across the room?” She asked after a few minutes of silence, Stiles rolled his eyes, and it was such a reminder of how Stiles used to be that she couldn’t help but grin.

“Magic.” He said at the same time as he rolled his eyes again as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“You do magic now?” Malia asked, trying to disguise the awe in her voice. Stiles gazed at her, as if trying to figure out if he should trust her or not. “I won’t tell anyone else.” Malia said a moment later and Stiles nodded his head briskly.

“Good.” He said solemnly, “Yes, I can do magic.” He said eventually sighing heavily. Malia could tell he didn’t want to talk about it, but she couldn’t help but be a bit excited, this was pretty damn cool after all. 

“Is that why they can’t hear us?” She said after a moment’s thought.

“How did you know that?” Stiles asked, still staring at her suspiciously.

“You threw me into a wall, either you’ve soundproofed the room, or the wolves downstairs have gone deaf.” Malia said simply, so glad that Stiles was still talking to her.

“Sorry about that.” He said quietly, apologizing for the instinctual reaction earlier.

“Don’t worry about it.” She replied, she leaned back against the wall, just glad to have Stiles home. “It’s our secret. I promise.” She said closing her eyes and letting herself drift back to sleep, knowing now that Stiles wouldn’t hurt her, she was safe and exhausted, sleep was the natural thing.

 

The next few weeks seemed to pass by in a blur, Derek was so glad Stiles seemed to be settling back into their lives, but he still barely spoke, and quite often it was to Malia, which frustrated Derek. Of course he didn’t expect Stiles to be back to normal, and declarations of love seemed so far from the right thing that Derek couldn’t bring himself to do it, not with how Stiles was barely speaking to any of them. Derek just wished he’d talk to him, even the slightest bit, it didn’t help that he was jealous too, his cousin had already dated Stiles previously, and now he was worried that they might get back together. Derek wanted Stiles to be happy, and if that meant he was with Malia then Derek would just have to accept it, but, god, he wished it was with him instead. 

As it was whenever Derek tried to bring up the subject of the night he was taken, the night he’d chosen Miller over Stiles, Stiles would always dismiss him, tell Derek that it wasn’t a big deal. Derek hadn’t even been able to explain about how Catherine had forced him to say those awful things, how she’d forced every single one of them to spew hateful things at him, but that none of them were true, that they all loved him, wanted him safe and happy and home. 

Derek hoped that Malia had maybe been able to tell Stiles that, because he never seemed to be overly bothered by the fact, always saying that he knew they’d been spelled and it was fine, as if that made it acceptable. He hoped that Stiles would forgive him for being too weak to fight Catherine’s power. Except he never mentioned it, nobody else mentioned it, and Derek felt like he was constantly walking on eggshells. 

Still, the day that Stiles smiled at him, even if it was sarcastically when he made a stupid joke about running with wolves, his heart had melted. He loved him, god he loved him, he wanted to tell him so badly, but how could he? Not when Stiles was still trying to get to grips with everything, Derek needed to wait until Stiles was settled in the new house, in to some kind of routine, and then, maybe, if Stiles still wanted to talk to him, maybe he could see how he felt about him, if Derek’s affections were returned at all? If he hadn’t destroyed any chance they could have had by shouting out Catherine’s hate-filled words.

 

By the time Scott arrived at the Hale house it was mid-afternoon, he’d been distracted the past few weeks, having Stiles home was such a big deal and he had to deal with it, but he also had his normal life to be getting on with, which meant shifts at the veterinary clinic and college and doing his homework and sometime in-between all that he had to sleep. He knew it was selfish, but he was kind of glad all of the pack had decided to stay in Beacon Hills. Lydia was the only one who actually didn’t go to Beacon Hills College, and that was purely because it didn’t have the right mathematical course for her. She went to one two towns over and always came home at night. In a way none of them had wanted to move after Stiles was taken, none of them wanted to risk not being here when he returned. They’d waited for him and it was obviously worth it, if only he could break down the walls Stiles had erected.

“Hey Scott, how’s things?” Leo said happily when he appeared. Scott took a moment to take in Leo’s appearance, he was covered in dirt, he was sure that the guy had been rolling around in the dirt, it wouldn’t surprise him actually, Leo was a little bit weird sometimes, he always had some reasoning behind it, and he’d explain it to you, but then you wouldn’t be able to get him to shut up. It reminded him of Stiles. He glanced up to where Stiles was standing on the porch of the house, Malia stood steadily at his side. He shook his head, he was wrong, Leo reminded him of how Stiles used to be.

He knew that wasn’t fair, it wasn’t Stiles’ fault that things had happened the way they had, but he’d been gone six months and he’d been back home for almost three weeks now and the only one he’d even remotely opened up to was Malia. 

He wasn’t annoyed per say, it was just, him and Stiles were best friends, or they were supposed to be best friends, and Stiles couldn’t seem to even speak two words to him that actually meant something, that weren’t just cold, or sarcastic, or unrelated to anything important. Scott missed him, he missed his friend. At least Stiles seemed to be coming back to himself slightly, he’d started wearing the odd plaid shirt again, and finally taken off the long sleeve t-shirts. Scott had been so worried that his friend would be covered in scars and that was why he wouldn’t show them his arms, instead it was just his usual mole dotted pale skin which relieved Scott no end.

“Hey Stiles.” He said approaching the steps a few minutes later after finally getting away from Leo. “How are you doing buddy?”

“Fine and dandy.” Stiles replied, Scott knew it was a lie, despite the fact that Stiles’ heart was steady the entire time, he still knew his friend was lying to him. 

“Alright then. Malia, are you doing better?” Scott asked, noticing how the coyote had finally settled down a couple of weeks ago. It had been so hard for her, harder than the rest of them he thought, because she was without her anchor, and as much as they tried to focus on a different anchor it always came back to Stiles, mainly because Malia refused to let it be anyone else. Because Stiles would need to know how important he was when he got back, he would need to know that she hadn’t quit on him.

“I’m fine Scott.” She said calmly, so much more at ease than she had been for months that it still surprised him. He went into the house, the final touches were going in today, they’d be moving in by the end of the week. He couldn’t wait to show Stiles his room. 

“Have you seen Frank anywhere?” Scott asked Percy later that day, they’d been working all afternoon and Frank hadn’t appeared yet, it was really unlike him, actually come to think of it, he hadn’t been here yesterday either. Scott knew Frank worked a lot, but he’d promised he would be here today, he hadn’t even met Stiles yet despite the fact he’d been home almost three weeks!

“No bro, I was just thinking the same thing. I’ll give him a call.” Percy replied, a hint of worry in his words as he called Frank.

“Hey dude, where are you?” Percy asked as soon as the call connected.

“I’m sorry Frank can’t come to the phone at the moment.” A female voice replied.

“Who are you?” Percy asked, the confusion wafting off him in waves that had the rest of the wolves coming into the room.

“It’s more like what am I, actually. Don’t worry, Frank and I have just been playing a little game. Maybe we can play one now, why don’t you try sniffing him out?” The woman laughed before hanging up the phone.

Suddenly the room was full of the pack, obviously all hearing the call and rushing in to find out what was going on, even Stiles was stood quietly at the back of the room, an eyebrow raised and a questioning look on his features. Scott bristled, one of his pack was in danger and he hadn’t even noticed, too wrapped up in making sure Stiles was okay. 

“You think it’s the vamp?” Percy asked. 

“I don’t know, you best get Bobby here though just in case.” Scott ordered.

“Present and accounted for.” Bobby said striding through the door. “What we got?” 

“Somebody has Frank. Apparently, we’ll be able to sniff him out so he can’t be far, split into four groups, howl if you find him.” Scott ordered as the pack started to split off.

“Where do you want me?” Stiles asked quietly. Scott looked at him, his best friend, all colour seeming to have drained from his face, he was too pale and fragile looking, too human to be fighting a vampire. He’d only just got Stiles back, he couldn’t risk anything else hurting his friend.

“Sit this one buddy. We’ll be fine. Back in a bit.” Scott said before rushing out of the door.

 

Stiles watched the pack disappear out of the door, saw as Derek hesitated for the briefest second, seemingly torn between staying with Stiles and going with the rest of the pack, before he clenched his jaw and ran out after Scott. Stiles tried to convince himself not to follow. This wasn’t his fight, not anymore. The pack had made that clear the night in the caves. He wasn’t even sure why he was here at the Hale house, Malia had insisted he come, that she wanted to show him something important, and he’d not been able to refuse her.

He wanted to keep his walls in place, he didn’t want to let any of them in, but they all seemed to be finding a way through the cracks, the way Scott’s eyes lit up whenever he saw him, his dad’s furrowed brow as he talked, constantly glancing at Stiles as if to convince himself Stiles was still there. Allison, Lydia and Melissa were always offering him food, as if they thought he needed fattening up, Malia and Erica were almost constantly at his side and Derek had managed to pull a smile from him without even trying which Stiles hated, because he disgusted Derek, how could he love someone who was disgusted by him? Then there was Dean and Sam, both of them looking so broken whenever their father was mentioned that Stiles wanted to hug them, and Leo, Jason and Liam who were constantly cracking jokes that Stiles found just too funny but that he couldn’t laugh at because that would be letting them in, not to mention Isaac, Boyd, Percy and Cora who were always challenging him to an arm wrestle and Stiles always refused because it would give the game away when he beat them easily, or Miller and Chris Argent who had both offered to give him weapons training and then backed off when he’d politely refused, plus there was Jackson who looked so upset when Stiles didn’t automatically hug him back, hell even Peter with his weird comments had found a way through, and, although he hadn’t met Frank yet, the way everyone else talked about him, it was obvious that all cared about him, and then, then there was Bobby, even though he looked at Stiles with pity in his eyes, Stiles still cared about him, didn’t want him to die at the hands of this vamp. 

He didn’t want any of them to die, not when he knew things they didn’t. That was what this whole thing had been about anyway. Him protecting them. Nothing had changed. Nothing would ever change. He would do whatever he had to to protect them, even if it meant his time here coming to an end, he wished he’d had more time, he wished he’d been able to be enough for them this time, that they would want to keep him around, and not just out of some weird kind of guilt, but, he knew it wasn’t going to work. They’d made their choice last time. Stiles would just have to live with it.

So despite the fact that he wanted to pretend he didn’t care about them, that he didn’t want to see the looks of guilt he knew were directed his way, he still found himself following them silently through the woods, regretting his decision every second of the way, knowing it was only going to end in bloodshed and heartbreak.

 

It didn’t take Malia long to find Frank’s scent, they didn’t even need to split up, the blood trail started a few hundred metres from the house and the whole pack followed it into the clearing about half a mile into the preserve, slowing only slightly to ensure that the humans of the pack were able to keep up.

She hadn’t expected to see a woman sat in a mountain ash circle, Frank tied up and gagged inside the circle with her. Malia took a moment to take in the scene in front of her, the woman was beautiful, that much was obvious, she had long blonde hair, a pretty face, definite curves, but the way she held the knife so dangerously in her long fingers made sure that Malia, and everyone else, knew that she wasn’t to be messed with. 

The circle was about fifteen foot in diameter, almost encompassing the whole clearing and inside was another circle almost complete, a small gap about as wide as someone’s foot keeping it from being complete, it was made with some kind of white substance that Malia couldn’t name, she wasn’t even sure what it might be. 

Frank was staring at Malia with calm eyes, despite the fact that he had evidently been kidnapped and cut open so that they could track his blood, he didn’t seem overly panicked, although his eyes kept glancing over to the trees on the far side of the clearing, Malia looked once and didn’t see anything so she turned her attention back to the woman in the circle.

The rest of the pack arrived only a moment later, all seeming to assess the scene before them. Surprisingly it was Bobby who first thought to reach for Frank through the barrier, sure that it wouldn’t be able to stop him as he was only human. He was thrown backwards through the air, landing against one of the trees hard, Sam had rushed to him, helped him unsteadily to his feet while the rest of the pack just growled at the woman who was laughing with amusement. 

“Come now, you didn’t honestly think it would be that easy?” She cooed, her voice soft and relaxing. Malia hated her instantly, her voice, the scent of her enjoyment, it made her feel nauseous.

“What do you want?” Scott demanded glaring at the woman with disgust.

“Nothing much. I just want my spark. Give it to me and I’ll leave.” The woman said coldly.

Malia’s heart rate went through the roof, all of the pack turning to look at her with curious looks when they noticed, she was panicking, she could barely breathe with the fear and the anger swirling inside her, if this was who she thought it was then it was a good job there was a protective circle around her, otherwise Malia would claw her throat out without hesitation. Unfortunately, the fact that the whole pack turned to look at her attracted the woman’s interest too. 

“Do you know where it is?” The woman said, glaring at Malia. She started to shake her head that she didn’t know anything, but she suddenly found herself unable to move. She cried out in pain as her arms were pulled upwards, every muscle tensing as pain throbbed through her, she was sure her arms were about to be ripped off at the shoulders. She didn’t think she’d survive that, she wasn’t sure that she would want to anyway.

“Leave her alone!” Peter snarled, trying to get between Malia and the woman and getting thrown to one side instead.

“Where is it?” The woman demanded coming closer to the edge of the circle and glaring at Malia, Malia only growled back at her in rage. 

“You’re not getting anywhere near him. He’s not yours. You’ll just have to kill me.” She snarled protectively.

“Him?” Scott asked cluelessly, if she had any use of her arms right now then she’d smack him around the head. She felt her limbs being pulled further apart and cried out again in pain. 

“Stop it!” The pack were screaming, the different voices echoing around the clearing, Malia sensed it the moment when her magic hit, when they all stilled in the same instant, they were unable to move, unable to fight, unable to come to her rescue, they were all useless and it was evident by the panic written on their faces.

“Tell me where it is!” The woman screamed her face losing all control over her emotions, her eyes glowing almost purple with magic and anger. 

“Not a chance.” Malia replied a smirk on her lips, knowing that she was about to die. But she’d do it. Without hesitation. If it meant protecting him. The woman screamed in rage and Malia knew that it was over, that she was about to die, she squeezed her eyes shut, ready to accept her fate.

“Stop it.” A voice instructed and Malia couldn’t help but whimper in panic when Stiles stepped out of the treeline and in to the clearing.

 

Stiles knew as soon as he heard the shouting that it was her, that she’d come for him. He knew it would only be a matter of time before she’d make her move. He hadn’t expected Malia to protect him quite so valiantly, perhaps she still felt guilt over last time, he knew he’d shared a few things with her, a few details of the whole experience, but he didn’t think she would protect him with her life. He didn’t deserve it. He knew that if it came to a choice between him and Frank, it would end in the same result as last time, him with a knife in his chest and everyone else walking away to carry on living their lives, flourishing without him. He grimaced.

He was scared, he wasn’t so far gone that he couldn’t admit that. But being scared wouldn’t change anything, and right now he was the only one that would be able to stop Malia from being torn to shreds. 

“Stop it.” He commanded, he hoped it came out strong and controlled, that it showed her that he wasn’t afraid, even if he knew that his heart would be giving away his panic to the wolves around him. He couldn’t help feel some relief when Malia dropped boneless to the ground, looking at him with terror in her eyes, at least one of them was safe for now, at least she didn’t have control over Malia, at least for now, he just had to make sure the rest of them were freed too, and there was only one way to do that.

“No Stiles.” Malia whispered, but he had to ignore her, for his sanity, he had to ignore her and instead face the woman in front of him.

“Catherine.” He said in greeting, trying to keep his voice calm and even.

“Spark.” She replied, smirking widely. 

“What?” Scott shouted, “Stiles have you lost your mind? That’s not Catherine!” Stiles couldn’t help but grin and shake his head fondly at his friend’s naivety. 

“She has a thing with changing her face Scotty, trust me. It’s her.” Stiles replied, trying to sound as casual as possible, Catherine smirked at his words, dropping the façade and allowing them to see the face that they associated with her. 

“Always ruining my fun Spark.” She pouted.

“It’s the only amusement I get.” He replied coldly. “Where’s Faye?” He asked, ignoring the growing looks of confusion on his packs faces. He cursed internally, realising that he had admitted it to himself, even if it wasn’t to any of them, he had called them his pack, they were back under his skin again, and they would throw him away like a piece of rubbish again. He tried not to panic at the realisation, tried to ignore the fact that he knew it was going to hurt so much more knowing he’d let himself fall into the trap of admitting he still cared about them, maybe that was Catherine’s plan all along. He tried to ignore the looks of anguish on their faces when Faye stepped into the clearing, instead, he nodded his head in greeting at the vampire, who grinned lecherously at him, flashing her teeth in reply.

“You know what I’m here for.” Catherine said as Faye stepped into the circle and pulled Frank to his feet. It was the first time that Stiles had met Frank, he took one look at the guy, saw him staring at Stiles with wide eyes, eyes that said he knew exactly what Stiles was, and the guy was scared of him. Stiles couldn’t help but shake his head sadly, it was time, there was no choice in the matter. 

“Of course I do.” He said taking another step forward. “The same thing you always want. Me.” Stiles couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the pleas from his pack, for him to run, to save himself, that she couldn’t have him, it was all empty promises. He knew what was coming, knew that any second she’d offer up a trade, Frank for Stiles. He wasn’t going to wait for them to pick somebody else over him. Wasn’t going to wait for them to betray him again. “So hand him over and I’ll go with you.” Stiles said, glad to see the surprise in Catherine’s eyes. 

“That’s not how this works pet. You know that.” She warned gently a smirk on her lips.

“I know how it works with you.” He replied, trying to stay as casual as possible, not let her know that his whole body was thrumming in energy, that he was terrified and that he knew his time was up, it was over, it was all over.

“You can’t have him.” Malia screamed suddenly. “You can’t. Please, Stiles, please.” She was practically sobbing and Stiles turned to look at her, she really seemed to mean that, he paused momentarily in confusion, surprised at how vehemently they were defending him, Catherine meanwhile only grinned at him.

“You know what that means Spark. I’ll take Frank to the witching realm in your place. You think he can handle it?” She asked, Stiles felt his stomach roll, no he’d never let anyone else suffer through that. He took a final step forward, into the circle, stepping through the barrier as if it was nothing, ignoring the shocked gasps behind him. Ignoring the shout from Derek as he pleaded with Stiles to run, to save himself, no matter what the cost, Catherine rolled her eyes and clicked her fingers and instantly the entire pack fell silent. 

“Getting slow in your old age? Or just not quite back at full power yet?” Stiles remarked and Catherine smiled easily at him. 

“You know you always had such a smart mouth on you.” She replied, “I just love that about you. So stupid. Even when you are faced with the undeniable truth that none of them ever cared about you in the first place. Still you protect them.” 

“And I’ve told you before. That’s not how it works. They don’t care about me. Fine. It doesn’t stop me from loving them.” Stiles argued. 

“So you keep insisting.” Catherine sighed, rolling her eyes, “But, it doesn’t mean I can’t have fun proving it over and over to you.” She clicked her fingers again and Jackson let out a cry of pain, hunching over as if someone had just punched him straight in the stomach. 

“Stop it!” Stiles snapped. 

“What? I’m not hurting him, not really, you know how the spell works, forcing people to admit truths, truths they wouldn’t normally admit, that’s all it is. If you’re too pathetic to handle the truth, that’s your problem. Now, Jackson, isn’t it? Come on, be honest, why don’t you tell my Spark here what you really think of him?” She smirked, Jackson groaned, straightening up and glaring at Stiles with hatred in his eyes, it was so unlike the Jackson Stiles knew, it was like looking at the Jackson from years ago, the one who used to enjoy beating him up and picking on him just because he could. 

“He’s nothing. He’s pathetic. I only acted like I could stand him because I wanted Lydia to see I could be caring.” Jackson spat out. 

“But…” Stiles said, trailing off as he thought through their relationship, redefining everything he’d thought as true. 

“See. I told you, I told you a million times. And yet, still, you are too stupid to realise that nobody cares about you. You are pathetic. Weak. Stupid. And absolutely nothing to any of them.” Catherine smirked and Stiles glared at the ground, it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before, but, he’d thought Jackson…he thought…maybe someone…He hadn’t been as annoying. He’d been trying so hard to make sure he wasn’t as annoying. Wasn’t as loud. Wasn’t as irritating and obnoxious and anxious and sarcastic and frustrating and all the things that had made him the way he had been, he’d tried so hard, and it still wasn’t enough, it would never be enough.

 

Derek screamed internally, he screamed and raged and fought against the spell with everything he had. He couldn’t believe this, couldn’t be here again, couldn’t believe that Stiles thought that Catherine had spelled them to tell the truth. 

He could see Catherine smirking at Stiles, he could see the way that Stiles believed everything Jackson had just said, he could see it in his eyes, and he realised that Stiles had always believed it. When Stiles had said that Catherine had spelled them, he’d believed that she’d spelled them to force them to admit truths they wouldn’t usually. Derek thought he was going to throw up. He couldn’t do this, couldn’t watch this. He had to fight, he had to fight harder than he ever had before. He had to break free, he had to make Stiles realise, he had to make him see the truth of what she was doing. He focused all his energy, all the energy of his wolf, and he forced it to fight the magic holding him in place, he could feel it like a physical thing, he pushed against it, strained against it, determined to break free. 

He could almost see a bead of sweat break out on Catherine’s forehead and then the magic holding him snapped away and Derek moved instantly, stepping forward and stopping just before the barrier could blast him backwards. 

“Stiles, it’s not a truth spell.” Derek managed to shout out before Catherine flicked her fingers and Derek was thrown backwards in to the nearest tree. 

 

Stiles stared at Derek who was still crumpled on the ground near the base of the tree, his eyes went from Derek to the rest of the pack, who seemed to be struggling against the magic that held them in place, their eyes wide, pleading almost, and Stiles stilled. 

It all clicked into place for him, he’d seen Catherine do it time and time again while on the other side, force people to confess to crimes they didn’t commit. Except he’d never thought she’d done it to his pack, never thought she’d done it to him, why would she? Not when the truth was so much worse than any lies she could tell. He could see clearly now, for the first time in so long, see what she’d done to him, he turned momentarily to look at the pack behind the barrier. Really look at them, look at the despair, the fear in their faces. It was the same looks they had worn when Catherine had controlled them last time, when they’d spewed hate-filled words at him, when they’d sentenced him to death. 

He looked at Scott, there was one way, one way to know for sure. 

“Scott, I don’t want you to say anything. All you have to do is blink. Once for yes. Twice for no. Okay?” Stiles said and Scott stared at him before blinking once. “The one thing you can’t control bitch.” He smirked and Catherine snarled at him, “Scott, once for yes, twice for no, were you at any point, were you going to kick me out of the pack? Were you going to kick me out as soon as I came back from wherever I stormed off to when I was first taken?” He asked and Scott stared at him in amazement before blinking frantically, not just once or twice but so many times that Stiles lost count, he looked completely devastated by Stiles’ words and it was in that instant that Stiles knew the truth. 

“Oh look at that, poor pet finally figured it out.” Catherine mocked and Stiles glared at her. 

“I should have known, I should have realised, what you said, what you showed me, it was lies. It was all lies.” Stiles said in disbelief, in rage, how could he have been so stupid? How could he have ever believed her?

“And you want to know what’s really pathetic?” She laughed, “How easy it was.” She taunted, “I thought you were clever, I never thought that you were that stupid that you’d fall for it, especially not that quickly. All it took was a quick rummage around in your brain and there it was, as clear as day, all your fears, all your insecurities, right there for the taking. Of course nobody wanted you around, why would they? People always got hurt because of you. You ran your mouth. You weren’t strong enough or brave enough or smart enough, you were annoying and stupid and weak and pathetic. Nobody loved you, they still don’t. Why would they Spark? You are nothing. You are nothing but a pain in their sides and they were glad when I took you. Relieved. Because they thought they were finally free of you.” She smiled, “You wanted me to take you, you wanted to get out of here, because you thought they’d be better off without you. All I did was show you what you believed was true. That’s it. So don’t blame me. If you want to blame anyone. Blame yourself. You did it to yourself. And you gave me so much ammunition. It was so easy Spark, so easy.” She grinned triumphantly.

Stiles stared at her stunned, unable to believe he’d been so stupid, that he’d believed her so easily, that he’d honestly thought she’d been honest with him. 

“Poor pet looks upset.” Faye commented and Catherine laughed brightly. 

“You fucking bitch, all this time, everything you made me see, made me think, it was all fucking lies.” Stiles snarled angrily. 

“You call them lies. I call them showing you truths that you believed.” Catherine remarked, “But, it’s not like you’re going to get the chance to sit and go over everything with this stupid little pack of yours. It’s decision time, either you come with me now, or I take Frank and kill all of them. Maybe I let you live. But they all get wiped out.”

“Really? You think that’s going to work with me?” Stiles replied, trying to buy himself some time, he rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen up some of the tension, trying to ignore the itch under his skin as his magic gathered. “I know you’re not at full power bitch. I mean, you couldn’t even keep a wolf under your spell, and, him, he’s not even an Alpha. You honestly think you can kill them all and take Frank? You aren’t getting out of here alive. You’ve made a big mistake, huge actually. Because you haven’t taken into account the fact that I’ve just been getting stronger.” 

“And you’re overestimating yourself my pet. You remember how it works in our realm? I’ve had more than enough time to recover my strength. I’m stronger than you think.” She snapped, but there was almost a hint of uncertainty in her voice and Stiles grinned confidently. The only way they were all making it out of here alive was for him to bluff, massively, it was a good job he’d had plenty of practice at that.

He strolled around the edges of the circle, keeping as far from Catherine as possible, seeing the shimmering in the middle of the circle where Catherine had already started to open the portal. He pressed his lips together, met her gaze and shook his head as if he was disappointed in her.

“You’re getting sloppy Catherine, opening a portal before you’ve even got your prey where you want him.” Stiles taunted her, he couldn’t help but shoot a small smile in his dad’s direction. He had to get a message out that things were going to be okay, that they would all be okay. Catherine growled at him, a human growl, but still, he supposed it was mildly impressive. 

“You’re mine, Spark. Don’t forget that.” She warned.

“Actually, that’s where you’re wrong. I was yours, to begin with. But, if I remember rightly,” Stiles smirked at her, “You made that silly bet with Margaret when you were a little tipsy over who could get the knife to hit me first, and, as it so happened, Margaret won, so she owned me. Except, she’s dead, isn’t she? Do you remember that? Because I most definitely remember that. It was so much fun.” He grinned, “So, Margaret is dead, and you don’t own me anymore, so I guess that means no-one owns me now.” He said condescendingly, edging his way towards Frank and Faye. 

“You’re right, it was fun. I suppose I should be surprised at what you did, but, you did turn in to quite the monster over there. It wasn’t enough that you killed her. You tore her throat out. And Elizabeth made you pay for it over and over again. But, don’t you ever forget, whatever you think, whatever Elizabeth told you, it doesn’t change the fact, you are mine Spark. You are mine and I will make sure that you never forget it.” Catherine replied angrily, losing control over the magic inside her, Stiles grinned, if he made her lose control, there was a chance that he would be able to beat her.

“You’re right, I am a monster and I did kill her, obviously that doesn’t upset you, you’re probably getting off on it, but does it upset you to know that she begged? Right after I tore her throat out. With my teeth. She begged not to die. She begged me to save her. It was one of my most memorable moments actually.” He smiled at Catherine. “And the really sad thing, I probably could have saved her, if she hadn’t tied me up in the first place, I could have applied pressure, I could have saved her life, but, then, she was such a sick fuck, it was her own fault that I was close enough to do it in the first place.” He remarked coldly, Catherine was really struggling to maintain her magic now, he could see it, the pack were able to move again, the barrier was weakening, all of her magic was being directed at him and he was revelling in it, unable to keep the crazed grin from his face, knowing things were about to go crazy, he’d have to act fast.

“You are a little shit.” She raged.

“Yeah I am. Always have been, always will be, and the worst thing, you are never, ever going to break me. You might as well just kill me now, because you are never going to get what you want, not ever, no matter what.” He grinned again, dodging to the side when she launched a bolt of magic at him, he dropped to the ground and rolled out of the way of another bolt of magic, managing to get to exactly where he wanted to be. 

He stood up next to Faye and Frank, who both seemed equally astonished at what they had just witnessed. He grabbed Faye’s shoulder, directing his magic to strengthen him as she dropped her grip on Frank, obviously intending to attack Stiles, and instead Stiles used all the strength he possessed to haul her in to the barrier that was separating him and Frank from the rest of the pack. 

He only had a moment to register the look of astonishment on the ancient vampires face before she disintegrated in to nothingness in front of him. He couldn’t help but laugh in amazement, he’d wanted to do that for so long, and in the end, it was Catherine’s magic that had killer her, it was obvious that Catherine was beyond angry at him, she was screaming in rage and Stiles couldn’t help but feel the adrenaline flooding through his system. He knew what needed to be done, he knew he needed to fight her, to beat her in order to keep the pack alive, he just prayed he had the strength to do it, they were depending on him if they were going to stay alive.

He looked back at his pack, at the worry on their features, they were scared and they were right to be, but, he hoped they’d still be alive after this, he saw Derek was back on his feet, stood in place only an inch away from the barrier, knowing he couldn’t get to Stiles, knowing the barrier kept them safe from Catherine, he smiled at him sadly, there was so much he wanted to say, wanted to explain, but, now wasn’t the time, not when Catherine was ready to blow him to bits the second he let his guard down.

There was no choice but to do this. Stiles took a final step forward, into the second circle made of white powder, waving his hand slightly so that it sealed shut behind him. As soon as it was complete a barrier formed around them, a clear dome that separated them from the others, Stiles knew it wouldn’t break, not without a lot of magic, it wouldn’t be coming down any time soon, not unless one of them broke it from the inside. Stiles knew he wouldn’t be breaking it, not when the barrier was the only thing that was keeping Catherine from getting to his pack, he just had to make sure he killed her, or that she was too weak to break the barrier, give them time to run away if it came to that. He rolled his shoulders again, trying to loosen the muscles, knowing this was about to end brutally.

As soon as the dome formed, the already weakened barrier collapsed outside of it and the pack surged forwards, Stiles ignored them, he couldn’t think about them right now, he had to keep his focus on Catherine. He did his best to block out the sound of the pack as they rushed forward to the dome, banging on it uselessly with their fists, tears streaming down their faces, screaming his name, begging him to break the barrier, to let them help him, all their voices muffled as the barrier did its job, he prayed it would be enough to protect them from what was coming. 

Stiles felt the power of his magic building in him, knew the power was building for Catherine too, the crackle of electricity in the air making his hair stand on end. It felt like the air inside the dome was ready to explode, it felt like he was ready to explode, his whole body thrumming with energy and power and adrenaline. 

As much as he had hated being taken, hated being exposed to the witching realm and all it’s monstrosities, the one thing he had discovered in his time away had been his ‘spark’ as Catherine liked to call it. And it was something that he loved, the warmth of it, deep in his chest, the way his whole body felt alive whenever he used it, the way he felt almost powerful, he would never be as powerful as the Catherine, her sisters, or any of the other witches that lived there, he was sure of that. But if he was the only thing standing between Catherine and the pack, he would do as much as he could possibly do, give as much as he could give, anything to protect them. If it meant he had to die then so be it, so long as he took her with him. 

Stiles glanced back, locking eyes with his dad, now that he knew the truth, that his dad didn’t hate him, that Noah didn’t want to disown Stiles because he found him irritating and a pain in his ass, that he didn’t think his life would be easier without Stiles in it, Stiles realised how much it must have hurt his dad to have those words torn from his throat in hatred. Stiles regretted that he would probably never get the chance to hug his dad again, to tell him how sorry he was that he had to go through that. He tried to say it with his eyes though, he hoped his dad knew how sorry he was even if he couldn’t get the words out. 

He turned back to Catherine, he could feel the power surging around her, hoped that his power was just as strong, wished with everything he had that he would be able to defeat her, he knew he had to if he wanted any of the pack to live.

“Bring it bitch.” He growled.

 

Noah couldn’t process this, he just couldn’t. First this woman had Frank, then she’s threatening to murder Malia who apparently knows what this Spark is. And then it’s Stiles. Of course it was Stiles. It was always freaking Stiles, anything bad that could happen was guaranteed to happen to his son and he just couldn’t understand it. 

He watched his son weave his way through the pack towards the barrier that separated them from Frank, Noah knew that the casual stroll was faked, he could see it in the way Stiles’ shoulders were bunched up and tense, he knew that his son was trying to sound calm and in control even though it was obvious to him that Stiles was nervous, scared even. Noah was mind-numbingly terrified for his son. Terrified that he was about to lose him to some supernatural creature again. But then it turned out that it was the same supernatural creature just one with the ability to change her face and she was after Stiles. 

Noah was raging inside, he could literally feel the anger causing his chest to constrict, his body to shake, but he couldn’t express it in any way because the bitch had control over him again, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t move and he couldn’t protect his son. He was a failure as a father.

As soon as Stiles had said for her to take him instead of Frank, Noah was certain that the tears must have been streaming down his face, but there was no evidence of them on his cheeks, he couldn’t believe this was happening again, he couldn’t let this happen again, and how could his son offer himself so willingly? And what the hell was the witching realm? Noah was so confused and more than that he was petrified. He couldn’t lose Stiles again, not when he’d only just got him back. 

He’d watched helplessly as Stiles had passed through the barrier as if it was nothing, despite the fact it had thrown Bobby backwards, in that instant Noah was certain that it had to be some kind of spell that prevented the rest of them from entering. When it finally dawned on Noah that Stiles hadn’t known about the spell Catherine had used on them, he felt his heart shatter. His son had spent the last three weeks with them convinced that they’d betrayed him. And never, not once, had he ever asked them about it, he’d never accused them, or yelled at them. He’d stayed with them. He’d even said he would listen to them if they wanted to talk, and, all that time, Stiles had thought they had been going to kick him out, that they were going to disown him, that they thought he was nothing but a liability, a pain in their ass. How could his son ever think that? Did he not realise that Noah would do anything for him, that the majority of the pack would do anything to protect him? That they’d die for him if that was what was necessary.

Noah had assumed that Catherine would have told him, she’d obviously told Stiles that she’d spelled them, he’d told them that he’d known, Noah had thought that meant he’d known about the spell, but, he was wrong, he was so wrong. 

It didn’t make sense to him, Catherine had had six months to torture him, telling him how his family had been forced to say those words would have surely hurt Stiles, so Noah had assumed she’d told him. Assumed that he had known what really happened. He was sure his heart was going to shatter if he lost his son, he couldn’t lose him now, not when he hadn’t had the chance to fix this, god, he needed to fix this, he had to fix this.

Except then everything happened so fast, the witch was throwing a bolt of magic at Stiles who managed to avoid that and the subsequent blast and on top of that managed to grab the vampire who released Frank and threw her in to the barrier.

Noah had thought it was over, thought that Catherine would realise she was beaten and back off, except she’d screamed at Stiles in rage and Stiles had done the most idiotic thing, stepping forward and sealing himself in another barrier with Catherine inside, and none of them could get to them, no matter how much Noah pleaded or Scott roared or Lydia screamed or any of the rest of the pack pounded with their fists, none of it made it through. Stiles was looking at him with such sorrow, such regret in his eyes, as if it was his fault, and Noah couldn’t bear it. 

“Stiles!” He screamed again, banging against the barrier as his son turned away from him. “God! Stiles! Please!” He was screaming, he didn’t know what he was pleading for, didn’t know what he wanted other than his son safe in his arms again.

“Bring it bitch.” He heard Stiles’ muffled voice through the barrier and then there were bolts of light, of magic, flying towards Stiles, who was firing more right back at her.

“Holy shit.” He found himself muttering, because that was his son, battling a witch, using magic. He heard the other murmurs across the clearing as the others processed the fact that Stiles was using magic. The only one he didn’t seem bothered was Malia who was still banging on the barrier, determined to break through it. 

He had never felt so helpless. His son was fighting a powerful witch, one who could control them, their bodies, their words. And right now, she was grinning and laughing as Stiles picked himself up from the floor, blood running down his forehead from a cut at his hairline, wiping the back of his hand along his face to remove some of the blood.

“I would have thought the one who killed my sister would have more about him.” Catherine laughed, her voice muffled by the barrier.

“I’m just warming up.” Stiles said grinning manically at her, planting his hands down on the ground, Noah could only watch with amazement as roots whipped up from the earth and grabbed hold of Catherine’s ankles. She reached down, wrapping a hand around the top of the roots and set them on fire with a grim smile on her face, taking a step forward towards Stiles.

“You never did get very far past earth magic.” She smirked, casting another spell that seemed to leave Stiles struggling for air, clutching at his throat desperately. She dropped her hand a moment later and Stiles collapsed to his knees in front of her gasping for breath, trying to steady himself as best as possible.

“You forget.” Stiles replied, his voice hoarse, the slight look of defeat in his eyes as he looked to Noah. “That was back when I was your pet. And I haven’t been that for a long time. I’ve learned a lot since then.” Stiles said, his teeth gritted in termination, as he slammed his hands together. Noah had a brief moment to see his son looking at him with wide eyes, filled with grief and regret before there was a blast like a bomb going off, the barrier between them seeming to slow it for a second before it broke through and Noah was knocked backwards off his feet.

 

Frank had been around enough magic growing up that he knew as soon as Stiles stepped through the barrier that he was somebody incredibly powerful. Possibly even more powerful that this witch that had captured him in the first place, it was like an aura, something that Frank could smell, but, also something he could sense. He’d been afraid of him, he wasn’t sure why, he hoped that the fact that Stiles was on their side meant that he wasn’t going to kill Frank, but, he also knew that Stiles could do it, without any issues, and he wouldn’t be able to stop him, nobody would. Frank could sense the power rolling off Stiles in waves, he wondered why none of the others had mentioned it, he wondered if any of them had even noticed it. He couldn’t understand how they couldn’t have noticed it, it was intoxicating, the whole atmosphere tasted of magic and Frank was certain that the majority of that came from Stiles, considering the way it had tripled in strength since Stiles had crossed the barrier.

Still Frank supposed that the idea Stiles was on their side soothed him just slightly, the idea that Catherine had been planning to take Frank to the witching realm instead of Stiles had made him feel slightly sick, he’d heard of some of the things that happened there, or the things that used to happen there, back when his mom was around, he wasn’t sure if it was still like that, but the way Stiles spoke about it gave him the impression that it was. He shuddered. He really, really didn’t want to end up there.

Before Frank could really process what was going on Stiles had provoked Catherine in to attacking him, then had used the attack as an excuse to get close to them, before Stiles grabbed hold of Faye and threw her in to the barrier, the crackle of electricity as Catherine gathered her power made Frank cringe with fear. He was tied up and gagged, he had never felt so useless, so helpless, becoming convinced that he was about to die, that there was no way to escape, except then Stiles was stepping forward trapping Catherine and him inside the second ring and forming a dome between them and Frank could finally breathe again. Jackson untied him as the fight continued on the other side of the barrier, and Frank thanked him gratefully as he helped him unsteadily to his feet, the wolfsbane finally starting to leave his system now that the ropes were off. 

He’d never met Stiles before today, but he’d listened as all the others spoke about him, how Stiles had been the first one to figure out that Scott was a werewolf, how he’d been there for his pack time and time again, how he’d saved them all time after time. But that when he’d needed them, they’d failed him. He knew that they all felt guilt over that, even Leo who had only known the guy while they were trapped in the caves together, even Jason who had never met Stiles until the witch had forced him to choose between Stiles and Miller. Everyone knew that Stiles was the glue. The only person who didn’t realise it was Stiles apparently. 

Frank knew the battle was ending and he also knew that Stiles was on the losing side, knew that they were all going to die because the instant Catherine defeated Stiles she was going to kill all of them, and, oddly, he couldn’t help but feel relieved. At least they would all go together. At least he’d finally had a chance to meet Stiles, had a chance to be amazed by the boy who ran with wolves. He didn’t want to die, he would much rather that they all lived, but, it was obvious that it wasn’t going to happen, Catherine would kill them all, he looked at the rest of the pack knew that they were all thinking the same thing, that they would all rather die today then live one more day without Stiles in their lives. 

The next moment Stiles slammed his hands together and Frank was blasted backwards off his feet and hit the ground hard.

 

When Lydia sat up she saw the rest of the pack still down on the ground, the majority of them were sitting up slowly, all brushing the dust off themselves as they clambered to their feet. But all she could see was Stiles. The very still, very immobile Stiles.

Jackson got there before her, hammering on the dome that was still in place, a look of terror in his eyes, looking to Lydia like she would have the answer. Stiles was lying on the other side of the dome, blood still dripping steadily from his head wound on to the ground below him, his shirt was torn in several places, his skin was pale and there were dark circles under his eyes. But the most important thing was that he was too still, god he was much too still.

“Stilinski!” Jackson was roaring. “God damn it. Wake the hell up!” 

“Stiles!” Derek shouted in fear, stumbling to his feet from where he had been knocked backwards by the blast and running forwards, ignoring the blood on his neck from where he’d obviously been hurt, instead all his energy went towards Stiles, running to the barrier and pounding on it relentlessly, determined to break it down with his fists if that was what it took. “Stiles! Please! Please wake up! Wake up! Please!” Derek sobbed, his voice was filled with terror, with despair and pain and Lydia felt his stomach twist with the sound of it. She couldn’t let this happen. She couldn’t let Derek lose Stiles, she couldn’t lose him. None of them could.

The rest of the pack were gathering around now. All of them screaming at the barrier, begging Stiles to move, show some sign of life. 

Lydia couldn’t deal with this, she couldn’t lose him. She screamed as loud as she could, directing every single bit of her strength into breaking down the barrier. She knew that everyone was looking at her as they covered their ears, knew she looked deranged, but she didn’t care. She just kept screaming until finally the barrier crumbled under her determination.

She surged forward, not caring that the others were still on their knees trying to recover, collapsing to the ground next to Stiles.

“Please. God. Please be alive Stiles.” She said grabbing his wrist as she felt for a pulse. She started to cry as soon as she felt one, the sheer relief making her feel a little dizzy. She sat at his side, sobbing and laughing in equal measure, “He’s alive. He’s alive.” She repeated making sure the pack could hear her, that Derek could hear her. “You’re alive Stiles. You’re okay. We’ve got you.” She said softly, applying pressure to the wound on his head as Derek fell to his knees next to her, his ears still ringing from her screams but his eyes were fixed firmly on Stiles, “He’s okay Derek, he’s alive.” She said in reassurance, Derek nodded but Lydia wasn’t sure he was taking it in, his eyes still glued to Stiles, his ears no doubt straining to hear Stiles’ heartbeat.

“What about the witch?” Percy said after everyone had reassured themselves that Stiles was indeed still alive and breathing, there had been several minutes of celebratory hugging, all of them amazed that Stiles had somehow beaten Catherine, sharing their disbelief that all of them were still alive, still breathing, when they all knew that really they should all be dead.

They all glanced around, there was no sign of her. Nobody seemed to know what had happened and Stiles was still unconscious on the ground. 

“We should get him back to the house.” Derek growled scooping Stiles up carefully. “We should call your mom to look at this head wound Scott.”

Scott nodded solemnly, and they all followed Derek back in the direction of the house. Lydia’s knees felt weak, now that she knew Stiles was alive, she felt exactly how much it had taken out of her to break down the barrier. She trailed behind the rest of the group and soon Jackson dropped back to wrap an arm around her waist. 

“Come on Lydia, nearly there now.” He encouraged. She nodded, wanting to acknowledge his statement but not having the energy to speak.

“That was some pretty powerful screaming back there. You must really care about him.” Jackson said simply, Lydia stopped in her tracks looking at Jackson in surprise, “Don’t look so surprised, it’s not like you’re the only one. I care about him too.” 

“But…how did…I’m not…” Lydia stammered uncertainly, shaking her head in confusion, had she really been that obvious?

“Lydia, this is me. You might put on a good bitch front to everyone else, but I know you have a heart, a huge heart, you care about him, about all of them. I thought you’d grown out of pretending that nobody can hurt you.” Jackson said, Lydia had the sudden urge to punch him in the face. 

“You don’t know anything! You know nothing! Nothing about me!” Lydia snapped angrily. 

“Woah, look, don’t be mad at me, please, I just, all I’m saying is that you’re not heartless Lydia, none of us are, so drop the façade and tell Stiles you care about him. Before something else happens and you lose the chance. I know I’ll be telling him the second he wakes up.” Jackson explained. 

“Stiles knows me! He knows me a hell of a lot better than you ever did!” She argued, “You left me! You ran away to the other side of the world and you left me! Stiles was there! He was always there! He looked out for me. Helped me. Cared about me. And he sees me. The real me. I don’t need to tell him I care about him. He already knows that. And he didn’t abandon me when things got tough! And I’m not telling him now. Not when he could leave me.” She rambled, not realising what she’d said until the words had already left her mouth, Jackson looked at her with something akin to pity and Lydia pursed her lips in annoyance. 

“I’m sorry I left. But I didn’t leave you. I didn’t leave because of you. I loved you. I still love you Lydia. I was scared. Confused. I was terrified of turning back in to that thing. Of you being the next person I killed. I ran away. And it was a mistake. But, I met Nick in London and he invited me to join his pack and we talked and then Stiles got in touch and I think he thinks that I was helping him, but, honestly, he helped me too. Having someone else to talk to, it made me realise that it wasn’t my fault. Just like it wasn’t his. And then we just started talking, about lots of random stuff, everyday stuff, things that weren’t important, weren’t life or death, just, things friends talked about. And Nick would sometimes come in when we were talking and he’d tell Stiles that it was good to see me smiling and I just, I realised, I like Stiles, I care about him. And as much as I enjoyed being part of Nick’s pack, I missed home, I missed you. And, Stiles had told me about how much things had changed, and I wanted to come back, I wanted to be here, and I thought about coming home, I’d basically decided to come back, I wanted to ask Stiles what he thought the next time he called, except he never did, and then he was gone. I thought I’d never get the chance to tell him, how much he’d changed my life. I am not going to make that mistake again. It’s okay if you’re scared of admitting it to him, but, I guarantee, the one person in this whole world who isn’t going to run away is Stiles. You’ve said it yourself, he’s been there through everything, and the only way he’s leaving any of us is if something like this happens again. You really want Stiles to die not knowing that he’s important to you?” Jackson said and Lydia gaped at him, unable to process everything he’d just said. 

“I don’t want him to die ever.” She muttered quietly. 

“Me neither. But bad things happen, to him more than anyone else it feels like. I don’t want him to die, but, if he does, or if I do, I want him to know how important he is to me. It’s your choice, but, I think you need to be honest.” He said and Lydia nodded, tears filling her eyes.

“Yeah, you’re right, you’re right, why would he run away just because I said I love him? Because he’s seen and heard a lot worse from me, and he’s still here, right?” 

“Exactly.” Jackson said reassuringly and Lydia hugged him tightly. 

“I still love you too Jacks.” She said into his shoulder, Jackson froze for a second in surprise, before he wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her in his arms and feeling more content than he had ever felt before. 

“Come on, let’s go home.” Jackson said, breaking the hug a few minutes later and taking Lydia’s hand, helping her back towards the house.

“So what do you think?” She said eventually finding her voice.

“About you? I love you Lydia. I always have. I always will. I know I didn’t used to express it very well back then, but, I do love you. I know I was a jackass nine tenths of the time. I also know I’ve grown up enough to realise that I treated you like crap, and you deserve someone so much better than me. But, if you’re willing to give me a second chance, I will do everything I can to prove to you that I’m not that person anymore and I will treat you with all the love and respect that you deserve.” He replied quietly. 

“Well, with an offer like that, how can a girl say no?” She smiled lovingly, Jackson grinned at her, pausing in his footsteps to give her a chaste kiss on the lips. 

“Come on, we need to catch up with the others, but, we’ll talk more about this later? Okay?” He asked and Lydia nodded, squeezing his hand and following him back to the house.

 

They had settled Stiles in his room upstairs, Melissa had taken a look at him and said the wound was superficial, that he looked to be suffering from exhaustion more than anything else. She’d gone to check him for other wounds and the whole room had fallen silent when they’d seen the intricate tattoos that started at Stiles’ hips, wound up his sides, moving slightly inwards at his sternum before retreating back to his sides again, around his collarbones and the back of his neck before flowing delicately down his arms to the inside of his wrists. 

Derek had stared at them in amazement, wanting to trace every inch of them with his fingers, wanting to ask Stiles what they meant, what all the different symbols and designs meant, but, then his gaze had moved from the tattoos, instead his attention was drawn to the scars that covered the rest of him. Noah’s fingers had hovered over the large scar in the middle of Stiles’ chest and it was obvious to all of them, even those that hadn’t been in the room that night, that this scar was the result of where Catherine had plunged the knife in to Stiles, right below that scar, the word ‘mine’ had been carved into his chest, although it had faded significantly and was pretty well covered by some of the tattoos. 

 

Bobby couldn’t help but let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head in disbelief at the sight in front of him. He had seen Stiles in a short-sleeved t-shirt, these marks hadn’t been there then, the fact that Stiles had kept all of this hidden from all of them just showed how much power the kid had, it wasn’t as if he’d just kept them covered, he’d kept them invisible. The only reason they were on show now was because Stiles didn’t have the energy to keep the spell up that usually hid them, Bobby was worried about how close to death the kid actually was.

They’d gone downstairs not long afterwards, all of them wrapped up in their own thoughts, trying to process the fact that Stiles had magic. That he’d saved them yet again. That he’d thought they’d betrayed him, abandoned him and he’d still saved them.

“When did you find out?” Noah asked, his voice tight, Bobby looked up to see him glaring at Malia.

“A few weeks ago.” She replied honestly. “He wanted it kept secret.” She said simply. Lydia was sat on the sofa, and Bobby couldn’t help but chuckle when the girl rolled her eyes and put her head in her hands.

“What do you know?” Sam said, his voice filled with frustration.

“Not much, just that Catherine took him to the witching realm.” Malia replied.

“That’s like the fifth time I’ve heard that tonight. What the hell is the witching realm?” Dean demanded, turning to Bobby, knowing he’d have the answer.

Bobby cleared his throat, he’d known this was coming, ever since Stiles had reappeared. He wasn’t going to be the one to blab the kids secret, but he wasn’t going to keep something from them, not from his boys. At least not the general things.

“Well, take a seat and I’ll tell you what I know.” Bobby watched as one by one the whole pack sunk to the seats in front of him, waiting patiently for him to explain what he knew, although he saw Derek looking more at the stairs that led up to Stiles’ bedroom than in Bobby’s direction. 

“The witching realm. Simply put, it is what it says on the tin, the realm of witches. It’s not a place on Earth. More like the realm runs side by side with our world. A parallel realm, just out of reach, and the only way to get through is to open a portal.” Bobby began. “It’s pretty much void of life other than the witches that reside there. And these aren’t the nice ones, the only people, if they can be called that, that exist in the witching realm are the psychotic bitches, the monsters you fear are hiding under your bed, the reason you are afraid of the dark, the deep dark, the ones who don’t need to mutter a word and still get you to slit your own throat. You won’t find a druid or a white witch in there ever. They die as soon as they cross over. They literally can not live there.” 

“So you’re saying Stiles is an evil witch?” Scott asked and Bobby was glad when Sam smacked him around the back of the head for the idiotic question.

“No. Not in the slightest. The witches can take humans from this world, and they keep them as, erm, well, pets,” He winced at the word, “for lack of a better word. Not many humans survive long, but it’s possible. The witches travel back and forth between the realms easily enough, but the humans don’t. If they wanted to take a human back with them there has to be a blood sacrifice, and a big one at that.” There were audible gasps as he spoke.

“That’s what it was when she stabbed Stiles? A blood sacrifice?” Miller asked quietly.

“Yes. I mean, her brother had already started it. With you.” Bobby said, not liking the fact that the woman still shuddered with fear at that memory. “But when Catherine killed him, she took the power from the spell he had started, when a witch kills another witch, they can draw all the power from them, it’s why there aren’t that many sociable witches, good chance you’ll get stabbed in the back as soon as you turn your back. She didn’t have to kill Stiles to get him through, she just had to wound him badly.” 

“But he survived.” Dean said, as if to remind himself that Stiles was asleep upstairs and not still with Catherine.

“Yeah.” Bobby nodded. “Kid’s a fighter.”

“No, I mean, Stiles has magic. And you just said that druids and white witches can’t live there, so, how did he survive over there?” Dean clarified. 

“He’s not a druid. Or a white witch. Or a dark witch before you come out with that stupidity again.” Bobby sighed, “He’s a spark. Or that’s what Catherine called him. And that’s a different thing altogether. Especially as, correct me if I’m wrong, but he didn’t know he had magic before going over there?” 

“No. We all thought Stiles was, normal, human. None of us had any idea he had magic, not until today. Except for Malia.” Allison said. 

“And he didn’t know? You’re certain?” Bobby pressed. 

“Yeah. We’re certain. If he had magic, he would have told us.” Sam said firmly, “He would have told us. Maybe not since he’s come back, but, before, before all that, he would have told us.” 

“Alright, from what I recall, and that’s not much, you want a proper answer, research it yourself, Sparks are a different kind of magic user, they don’t USE magic, they ARE magic, in the same way that only the darkest of the dark can live in the witching realm, only the brightest of magic users can become sparks, they are inherently good. They can harness power from almost anything, they use that to increase their magic. If he didn’t know he had magic, that would explain why he didn’t die the instant he crossed over, because he hadn’t used any magic to show his was good or bad, he was still neutral at that point. He obviously started using magic over there, meaning it’s possible darker magic than he would have if he’d been trained by a white witch on this side of the divide, but, that’s not the case. Still, it’s not possible for his magic to be dark, which is probably a good thing considering the power display we just saw.” Bobby explained. 

“So we obviously need to do research on Sparks.” Noah said, “But, about the witching realm, what can you tell us about that?” He asked. 

“Well, the realm is incredibly brutal, I’m not going to sugar-coat it, and I’m sure Stiles will tell you what it was like, if he chooses to, when he chooses to. But yeah, it’s brutal, it’s basically a hell dimension. The witches enjoy it there, which shows just how fucked up they are. But, as we’ve just discussed, she called Stiles a Spark. Which is a different matter altogether. He would have had some level of magic in him to begin with, obviously unknown to him, but, she would have been able to use that to help power the portal, to get him across to the other side. There wasn’t and reason for her to be as vicious as she was, I guess she just enjoyed it. But I’m not sure. It’s almost as if she was deliberately vicious towards him. I know, evil witch, going to be vicious, but there’s more to it than that I’m sure.” He said, trying to think it through in his own mind.

“She wanted him broken.” Malia replied and all heads turned to her.

 

“Care to fill the rest of us in?” Derek growled echoing the rest of the pack’s thoughts. Malia looked at them, trying to figure out how much to tell them, what to tell them, and if it was still a secret now that they all knew about Stiles’ magic. Being a human was hard. 

“Alright fine. But if Stiles gets mad at me it’s your fault.” She replied, glaring at Derek. “It works like Bobby said, the worlds are parallel. Each place of power in this world is replicated in their world. So we have a very powerful place of power near here…”

“The nemeton.” Cora said and Malia nodded.

“Except they can’t get at it. If you haven’t noticed every single attack from any witches in the past have never been anywhere within a mile of the nemeton.” Malia continued, watching as Bobby’s eyes widened comically.

“You’re serious?” He asked. 

“Well, a Darach came pretty close, but, still not able to touch it.” Isaac said.

“Anyway.” Malia said in annoyance and they all fell silent again, “Because Stiles is a spark, he found a book on the other side, one on Sparks, he read that Sparks have powers from the second they are born, but they don’t always show them, he thinks, although he doesn’t know for sure, that, when he was born, he unknowingly cast a spell of protection over the nemeton, protecting it from dark uses, because it is in his territory. When he made the sacrifice to save his dad, it just sort of solidified the spell, like he was accepting responsibility, even if he didn’t realise it, and by doing so it made the protection spell and the nemeton even more powerful. So naturally, the nemeton being stronger than it was, it just made the witches want it more, but they couldn’t get anywhere near it. In order to break the protection spell, they had to break Stiles. That’s why she was so vicious, because she wanted him to break, if he broke, if he stopped protecting us, then he stopped protecting the nemeton and the witches could get at it. And they’d be even more powerful than they already are.” She concluded.

“So that bitch told him that she’d forced us all to tell the truth, and he believed her, he believed we all hated him and thought we’d be better off without him around and, after all that, he was still protecting us? Even after he thought we’d said all that shit? Let her do all that crap to him?” Dean said, clenching his hands into fists, it was obvious he was enraged at the thought of what Catherine had done to Stiles, that he hadn’t been able to stop her, to help Stiles, Malia only nodded in confirmation.

“Stiles will always protect us, even if we don’t deserve it. That’s the kind of person Stiles is.” Erica said wisely. “He always has done. Over and over. More times than any of us know.” 

“I can’t get over the fact that he didn’t break, it’s just impossible.” Bobby muttered under his breath and the wolves all looked at him in befuddlement. “All that time, and he didn’t break.”

“It’s been six months, don’t get me wrong, it will have been fucking awful for him, six months, it’s….” Boyd said trailing off and glaring at Bobby when he stank the room out with the stench of his guilt. 

“What aren’t you telling us Bobby?” Dean growled and Malia was a bit surprised, Bobby was like a second dad to Sam and Dean, she’d never seen them growl at him. Bobby rubbed his hand around the back of his neck, looking down at the floor, he was obviously uncomfortable but Malia didn’t care, she wanted to know what he knew, what she hoped Stiles had already told her, but, the way Bobby was reacting, she was almost certain it was something that Stiles would have also hid from her.

“Well, you see,” Bobby began, taking a deep breath, “The other thing you probably need to know about the witching realm, I mean, yeah, you probably need to know about it,” He sighed in resignation, it was obvious to all of them that he really didn’t want to share this bit of information. “Aw balls, alright, fine, like I said it’s basically a hell dimension and the fact is, hell dimensions…time moves differently there.” 

There was silence as this newest piece of information was processed before Noah jumped up to his feet, grabbing hold of Bobby’s collar firmly, glaring at the man with pure rage.

“What do you mean time moves differently? How differently!? How long was my son there, Bobby? How long!?” Noah demanded, his face turning red with anger. 

“It’s not my place to say.” Bobby replied calmly.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Tell me how long they had my fucking son Bobby!” Noah shouted.

“Six years there abouts.” Came the reply from the stairs. Malia turned to see Stiles stood on the bottom step, his face still incredibly pale, looking like he could fall over at any second, he looked at the room warily. “I was there about six years.” 

 

Stiles opened his eyes slowly, blinking a few times as things came slowly into focus. His head was spinning and he felt like he might throw up, but the fact he was alive that was pretty damn impressive. It took him a minute to figure out where he was, he’d expected to be still lying inside the barrier so the fact that he was in a bedroom was a bit of a shock, it was a gorgeous room and he wondered who it belonged to, the thought was dismissed quickly as he could hear voices downstairs and he knew it must be the Hale house. 

He headed towards the door, cursing quietly when he saw the tattoos and scars on display across his bare arms. He closed his eyes, concentrated for a moment and then opened them again, sighing in annoyance when they were still showing, he was obviously lower on magic than he would like. He’d never wanted anyone to see how desperate he had become in his time away, but, it was too late for that, they knew now. He threw on a long sleeve t-shirt, making sure that it covered the most damaged skin, knowing that the last thing he wanted was them to have to stare at the evidence of him time away.

He walked as quietly as possible towards the voices, trying not to stumble as his head throbbed particularly viciously. He was exhausted, he needed to sleep for a little while longer yet, that was a lie. He needed to sleep for a lot longer. But his only priority right now was making sure that they were all okay, that the blast hadn’t hurt any of them. He’d hoped the barrier would protect them, but he hadn’t been definite about the fact, yet he’d still cast the spell, he despised himself, he’d been so reckless, so thoughtless, so uncaring, no wonder they wanted rid of him, he was a horrible person. What if someone had been hurt because of it? He’d never forgive himself.

Stiles hated feeling like this, he’d spent so long only looking out for himself, not having to think about the consequences of his spells because he was the only one around that would have to face them, admittedly, Catherine or one of her sisters were also there, but, he didn’t really care if some of his magic killed them. He had had no friends in the witching realm, there were no innocents there. Only enemies. It didn’t matter if people got hurt in the crossfire because it was just one less person to torture him. Except that wasn’t the case now. Now there were innocent people involved and he could have hurt some of them. He could have hurt his pack.

Admittedly he would have had to cast the spell either way, he didn’t have a choice in the matter, it was either that, or lose and watch as Catherine murdered his pack, and then go back to that place. He couldn’t face it. So, he’d made the only choice he had left to make, he’d cast the spell, praying that it was enough. Now he would have to face the consequences, the looks of betrayal he was sure to get, the fact that somebody else would be hurt because of him, the way somebody always got hurt because of him.

He stopped on the bottom step when he heard the shouting, saw as his dad grabbed hold of Bobby, as he demand to know how long Stiles had been gone. Stiles had spoken before he even registered he was going to say the words. 

“Six years there abouts.” He said quietly, trying to stop himself from falling to the ground as his body protested, “I was there about six years.” He looked at the ground, suddenly thinking that it was probably the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. He didn’t want to meet their eyes, see the disgust there. He felt hands touch his shoulder, his chin, bringing his head up and forcing his eyes to look at his father.

“Six years?” Noah asked him softly, his voice cracking in disbelief, his eyes filled with tears. Stiles nodded, unsure what else he could do or say to stop his dad looking like he was destroyed by this thought. “Oh god Stiles. I’m so sorry.” His dad cried, pulling him into a tight hug, holding onto him like Stiles was about to break, and maybe he was, he wasn’t sure if he was honest. He was tired, and the fact that somebody else was keeping him upright made him feel like he could just close his eyes and go back to sleep. 

“Is everyone okay?” He mumbled into his dad’s ear, too tired to keep his eyes open, too exhausted to look around the room for himself. 

“Stiles.” His dad said, pulling away from him, keeping his hand on both his shoulders, forcing Stiles to open his eyes and look at his dad. “Stiles, everyone’s fine son. Are you okay?” Stiles nodded, he’d been running on adrenaline, needing to know that everyone was alive, and because he knew that now, he couldn’t find the strength to keep himself upright anymore. 

“m’fine.” He mumbled before letting his eyes close and his legs give out.

 

Noah looked at his son stood on the bottom stair in front of him and couldn’t help but pull him into a crushing hug, Stiles looked so lost, so sad, so hurt, and Noah could only see the eight-year-old kid that had just watched his mom die, he wanted to hug him, hold him, protect him from the whole world. Noah as cursing internally, raging at how idiotic he had been, how could he not have known? How could he have let his son go through that? He hadn’t had a choice, he hadn’t been able to fight off the witch’s spell, he hadn’t been strong enough and it had been Stiles that suffered. When he heard his son ask if everyone else was okay, he felt his heart shatter, of course Stiles would think of them before himself; that was the kind of person he was. Despite the fact that his son was swaying on his feet, evidently exhausted, he was still asking about everyone else. 

“Stiles, everyone’s fine son. Are you okay?” Noah asked pulling away from Stiles, needing to see with his own eyes that Stiles was still there, was still with them. He hadn’t expected his son to let out a sigh that sounded something like “I’m fine.” Before his eyes rolled up and he collapsed. Noah held tight to him, stopping him hitting the floor, glad when Derek was there in an instant, helping Noah to lower Stiles to the ground gently.

“Stiles? Stiles.” Noah tried, his voice filled with worry, trying to wake his son up, terrified that he was dead. He looked up at the wolves all on their feet above him. “What’s happening?” Noah asked praying one of them could give him an answer.

“His hearts still beating. I think he just went to sleep.” Derek said quietly from next to him, running his fingers through Stiles’ hair softly as if to reassure himself, Noah couldn’t help but sigh in relief. 

“You’re sure?” 

“Yeah, he smells exhausted, but, he’s okay.” Derek confirmed and Noah nodded in acknowledgement, reaching out to touch Stiles’ hand and feel it’s warmth against his skin.

“He did always have a flair for the dramatics.” Noah grinned, accepting the help as Derek picked Stiles up and laid him down on the sofa. Scott sat down at the foot of the sofa, resting his hand on Stiles’ bare arm and drawing any pain he could, Derek sat down at the far end of the sofa, near Stiles’ feet, and did the same.

“Is he hurting?” Noah asked.

“A little bit, but, like Derek said, it’s more of an exhaustion than anything else.” Scott informed him, “He’ll be fine after a decent sleep.” The pack settled back into their seats, all eyes glancing back at Stiles every few seconds, checking he was okay.

“I don’t get how he could have been gone six years?” Liam asked eventually, “He doesn’t look any older.” He commented, glancing at Bobby hoping the man could answer the query.

 

Bobby was fed up of being sociable, he liked his solitude, liked to spend days without talking to anyone. And today he’d talked longer than he’d ever spoken before, he was sure of it. He wasn’t used to people actually listening to what he had to say. Admittedly, Sam and Dean had always called him and asked him for information on a hunt, but as soon as they’d got what they’d needed they’d hung up. He didn’t blame them, the boys were idiots sometimes, they’d wander into a hunt, not knowing what they were after, and then call him asking what it could be when they actually saw the thing. The call usually got cut off because one of them had been thrown across the graveyard, car park, building or wherever they were at the time. They weren’t the best planners, Bobby snorted as he had that thought. 

So when Liam started to ask him questions and look at him like he really wanted to hear what Bobby had to say, it made him feel kind of important and he couldn’t help the small blush across his cheeks as everyone turned to listen to him, he still grumbled about it thought, he couldn’t have people thinking he was a soft touch just because some kid gave him the time of day.

“Well, I met a witch one. One that had lived in the realm. She wasn’t exactly happy about our little chat, but, thankfully she didn’t have a say in the matter. And when we spoke, it didn’t last very long, I could only bind her powers for a little while, the longer we talked, the more chance she’d have of killing me. But she told me about the pets…” He glanced up at Stiles still asleep on the couch and cleared his throat uncomfortably, “Sorry…the people that they took to the realm. Despite the fact that they’re in a different realm their bodies remember where they actually belong, so they age as they would if they were still here. So even though Stiles was there for six years, he only aged as if he’d been gone six months.” Bobby said, hoping that covered everything Liam wanted to know.

“So what else did she tell you?” Peter asked curiously.

“Not much I guess. Just the usual.”

“What’s the usual?” Miller asked quietly.

“Erm, well, she told me that usually the pets,” He cringed using that word, “They break pretty easily. It’s good for them because once they’re broken the witches can use them to carry out their will in this world. And sometimes, people don’t even notice they were gone. The witch who I spoke to, well, she had a liking for taking people when they were going on holiday. By the time they were due back, she’d broken them, shoved them back into their lives and then, I don’t want to say convinced, but that point they didn’t need any convincing, they’d do anything she wanted them to, but, she got them to commit horrible acts in her name.” Bobby said, glancing at the white faces around the room.

“That’s awful.” Lydia whispered.

“That’s kind of what they do.” Bobby said stating the obvious. Did these kids not realize just how dangerous these witches were?

“What about the ones who don’t come back here?” Isaac asked curiously. 

“Well, they stay in the realm with the witches, but they turn to something darker, more malicious than anything you’ve ever seen before. The vampire, Faye, she was one of them. They’re tortured until they break, and then the witches change them with whatever power they want to use them for and then they keep them nearby, the witches gain power from the pets, and anything evil they do the witch feels it as a power surge. They usually keep the pets they’ve broken in for centuries, they get quite attached I imagine. But eventually they get bored and they want another one to break in, the stronger the better. They want to add to their powers.”

“Centuries?” Jackson asked.

“Yeah, when they break them, turn them, however you want to think about it, they get a boost from the witch, they age slower, in both realms. They can be sent here to commit evil acts that will grow the witch’s power, or they stay there and follow her around like puppies, lap dogs, willing to do whatever she asks at any given moment. That’s what has me so surprised about Stiles, she kept him across there, no doubt about it, he was living in a literal hell, and he didn’t break.” Bobby said quietly.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” Scott said looking incredibly pale.

“What about the ones that don’t break?” Jason asked, “The ones that get out without breaking?” He said looking to Stiles.

“If I’m honest, I didn’t know it was possible.” Bobby said finally, all eyes going to Stiles. “Nobody ever lasted that long according to the witch. According to her, as soon as they got over there, they all break easily, sometimes a day or two, some a week or maybe a month if they are really stubborn but none of them over a year, never mind six. I guess they never met anyone like Stiles before.” He let out a small smile. He wanted the pack to take comfort in the fact that Stiles was alive and in one piece, that no matter what they’d done to him he hadn’t broken, he’d come back to them, he was alive.

 

Scott wasn’t sure he was really processing all of this. It had been an exhausting day, when he’d woken up that morning it was with the idea of showing Stiles his room, hoping to see a small smile on his best friend’s face. But now he was sat next to Stiles, still drawing a small amount of pain from his unconscious form, and Stiles had magic, and scars, and tattoos. Scott hadn’t known about any of it. How could he not have known? Stiles was his best friend. He knew Stiles hadn’t been the same since he’d returned home, but Scott hadn’t expected him to be, six months, no scratch that, six years of torture will change somebody, no doubt about it. But surely Scott should have seen how much Stiles had changed. Surely, he should have said something, made sure that Stiles understood it was the witch, not them, that had said those awful things.

He looked around the room at his pack, Boyd, Jackson and Miller had gone out to get some food but the rest were littered around the room, none of them willing to leave and go to their actual bedrooms when Stiles was still unconscious. Derek was sat at the other end of the couch, Stiles’ feet were resting on his lap and he was resting his arm over his legs gently as if afraid of hurting him. 

Scott knew that as soon as Stiles woke up, he was going to tell him how sorry he was, how much guilt he felt for not realizing just how much his brother had suffered. Stiles would listen to him, he had to listen to him. Scott needed to make this right. He couldn’t ever let Stiles think that he didn’t love him, that he wasn’t pack. Not again.

The others arrived back with food a little while later and the pack were all eating quietly when Stiles started to stir. Scott moved away slightly, just so that he could get a proper look at Stiles as he woke up, make sure that he could see Stiles was okay with his own eyes.

“Stiles?” He said quietly, not wanting to disturb him if he was still asleep. Stiles turned slightly in his sleep, mumbling words that made no sense, within minutes Stiles was practically thrashing in his sleep, sweat forming across his body and small whimpers of pain being pulled from his lips. The pack were all gathered around the sofa, watching Stiles as he struggled with his nightmare, looking at each other nervously, uncertain if they should wake him or let him sleep.

“Don’t touch him.” Malia said in warning, “Stiles.” She said loudly, crouching down nearby but keeping her distance, “Stiles, wake up.” She repeated.

“Stiles.” Scott said louder this time, unable to watch Stiles suffer any longer, he moved past Malia, reaching out to touch his shoulder, Malia grabbed at him, trying to stop him, pull Scott’s hand away, but she was too late. 

Stiles’ eyes shot open and they were glowing a bright gold, before Scott could register anything else he felt himself go flying backwards, the rest of the pack with him, as if a giant barrier had just been thrown up around Stiles and they had all been flung away from it. He connected hard with the wall but it only stunned him momentarily, thankfully the humans of the pack didn’t seem to have hit anything nearly as hard and were already getting to their feet, helping the wolves to their feet slightly unsteadily. 

Before Scott could move, before any of them could act, Malia was taking a step forward, holding her hands up in surrender to Stiles, glaring at the rest of them to not intervene. 

“Stiles. It’s me. It’s okay. It’s me.” She said soothingly.

“No, no, no, I can’t be, this isn’t…” Stiles whimpered, his chest heaving as he tried to breathe, his voice cracking from his dry throat.

“I promise Stiles, it’s me, it’s just me. You’re home. You’re safe.” Malia repeated, waving Derek to a stop when he took a step forwards, thankfully he listened to her.

“No, no, I saw her. She’s here, she’s going to…no, please, no.” Stiles muttered.

“I know you saw her Stiles, but, you fought her, remember? You beat her. I promise you. This is real. We’re all alive, we’re all okay and you beat her. You saved us.” Malia said quietly as she took another step forward.

“It’s a trick.” Stiles said, his eyes still glowing, not seeing anything other than Malia.

“It’s not. Stiles, listen to my voice. She never got the voices right remember? It’s me. It’s real. Please, you have to believe me.” She begged, pulling out of Peter’s grip when he tried to stop her from taking another step towards Stiles, “Remember, please Stiles, remember the sound of my voice. This is me. My voice. Me. Right here. Okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s you. It’s your voice. It’s you. I’m home. I’m safe. She’s gone.” Stiles muttered quietly as if trying to reassure himself and after a moment the glow started to fade from his eyes, eventually he seemed to recognize the fact that the whole pack were in the room and were all staring at him in amazement.

“Um, hi, sorry.” He said waving awkwardly, Scott rushed forward, pulling Stiles into a bone crushing hug.

“I’m sorry. God Stiles, I’m so sorry. I thought you knew. She made us say those things, we would never had let her take you if we could have fought it. God I’m so sorry, I wasn’t strong enough to stop her. But it wasn’t a truth spell, it wasn’t, you have to believe me, it wasn’t a truth spell, she forced us and I’m so sorry, sorry I was that weak, that I couldn’t stop her from taking you, from hurting you.” Scott cried as it all poured out of him.

“It’s okay Scotty.” Stiles said hugging him back and Scott couldn’t help but cry even harder.

“It’s not okay. It’s not. I was too weak to protect you. She hurt you and it’s all my fault.” Scott whimpered.

“Not just yours.” Noah said approaching them. “Mine too. I was too weak to stop her from using me in the same way, and I just, you said you knew she’d spelled us, I didn’t think for a moment that you would have believed it was a truth spell. You’re my son and I love you. Nothing will ever change that. And, as much as I love everyone in this room, if the choice ever comes up, it’s you, every time, I’ll save you every time. No matter if I had to kill everyone else myself. You’re my son Stiles. I love you. I would do anything for you. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry that I failed you, that you thought I would ever choose anyone else over you.” 

“It wasn’t your fault.” Stiles said, his breath rushing out of him as he was pulled into another hug. “It was mine. I believed her. Like she said. It was easy.” He muttered bitterly. 

“But she was wrong. You are so loved Stiles, by all of us, Jackson nearly killed Scott when he found out you were missing and he hadn’t called to let him know.” Cora supplied. 

“I’m pretty sure Derek came closer to it.” Scott commented and Stiles glanced at Derek in surprise, shocked when the older man blushed and ducked his gaze, staring instead at the floor like it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

“What we’re all trying to say, Stiles,” Peter interrupted, “Is that, all of it was lies. If we’d had control over our bodies, if we could have done anything, we would have done everything we could to save both you and Miller, we wouldn’t have made a choice, and, if she had cast a real truth spell, you would have known, that, although I have come to care about Miller quite a lot, at that point in time, it would have been you, now, I think the choice would have been impossible, but, back then, it would have been easy for me, and I would have chosen to save you.” He concluded. 

“Um, thanks, I guess, I don’t know what to say, thank you Peter.” Stiles replied, bemusement on his features. 

“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever made you speechless.” Peter said and Stiles shook his head fondly, a smile on his lips as he rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, whatever, get over here and give me a hug.” Stiles said, opening his arms, he’d said it sarcastically, never expecting Peter to actually hug him, except, Peter had moved forward a split second later, pulling him in to a tight hug and Stiles had been at a loss for words, instead he just hugged Peter back, almost able to feel the tension ease out of Peter at the contact. “Anyone else want a hug?” He offered when Peter finally broke contact with him, he really didn’t expect the entire pack to surge forwards, all of them piling in around him, muttering apologies and pleas of forgiveness as Stiles reassured them all that it was fine, he was fine, they didn’t need to apologise, they’d been trapped by Catherine’s spell, just like he had been. 

Scott couldn’t help but smile as he saw the blush on Stiles’ cheeks as they all told him how much they loved him, how much they needed him, they’d missed him, they’d grieved for him, how much they couldn’t go on without him. He made the pack a family. He brought them together. Stiles was blushing furiously obviously not used to getting such praise.

He noticed that Derek hadn’t said anything yet, Scott wanted to push him, wanted to tell him to sort it out and make sure that Stiles knew the truth, but, he also knew that Derek wasn’t great at expressing himself sometimes, and, forcing him to make declarations of love in front of the entire pack probably wasn’t going to go brilliantly. Instead, he let Derek hug Stiles along with everyone else and not mutter a word about how he had been manipulated into saying some of the worst things anyone could imagine. Scott tried to place himself in Derek’s shoes, if he’d been forced to tell Allison that she disgusted him, that he could never love her, that he hated her, and have Allison accept it so easily, like it had to be the truth, no, Scott shook the thought from his mind, he couldn’t even imagine the pain Derek must have been going through. 

“All right, enough now.” Stiles said eventually, sitting back down onto the sofa dark circles under his eyes, he looked exhausted, like he was ready to go to sleep any second. 

“Are you alright? Do you want to go back to sleep?” Scott asked, Stiles shook his head uncertainly.

“I just want to stay here for a bit if that’s okay? Just know that you guys are here?” Scott nodded enthusiastically, not willing to let Stiles out of his sight. 

“How did you guys get me out by the way? I should have still been inside that barrier.” Stiles queried a few minutes later.

“Lydia.” Scott said quietly, glancing across at the girl sat in the seat next to him, “She screamed really, really, loudly until it just kind of shattered.” Lydia glanced across at them and Stiles met her eyes.

“You broke down the barrier?” He asked, his voice filled with awe.

“Yeah, I guess I did.” Lydia said sheepishly.

“Lyds…that’s just…wow.” Stiles said at a loss for words.

“What?” Lydia asked, slightly worried.

“Just, that’s really impressive. You should be proud of yourself.” Stiles said in amazement, he’d never heard of that being done before. He was very impressed.

“It was important.” Lydia replied easily, “I mean…I…you’re important. To me.” She continued, squeezing Jackson’s hand for support and Stiles stared at her with confusion, it was obvious he didn’t believe her, “I never said it before, I though, as stupid as it sounds, I guess, I never said I loved you, because I thought you’d leave me, and then, then you were gone and I didn’t say it, and I love you Stiles, I do love you, and I’m so sorry that I never said it.” Lydia rambled and Stiles gaped at her for a moment before standing up and opening his arms so she could hug him. 

“I love you too Lyds, I’d never leave you, I promise, not by choice. You’re stuck with me. Until the end of our days. Okay?” Stiles said and Scott tried to ignore the whiff of jealously he caught wafting off Derek, he glanced at him and Derek pursed his lips apologetically. 

“I’m really sorry I said all those things, I didn’t mean them.” She sobbed into his shirt and Stiles held her a little tighter, looking at Jackson for some kind of explanation as to why Lydia was crying on him. 

“Lyds, it’s fine, I promise you, it’s fine, I know now. That’s all that matters. I know the truth now. And I’m never going to leave you, you’d never do anything that could make me leave you, so, don’t worry about it, I love you, you love me, everything is fine.” Stiles reassured her, rubbing a hand over her back soothingly, “But, just to like, clarify, I love you in a ‘you’re awesome and I’m amazed by you kind of way’ not in like a ‘I want to have sex with you’ kind of way, because Jackson looks like he may kill me if I tried that, and, not that I don’t think you’re amazing, because I do, but, I don’t want to have sex with you. Just to make that clear.” He said and Lydia smacked him playfully on the shoulder as she pulled away from him slightly. 

“Yeah, well, to make it clear, I don’t want to date you, but, sex? I would if the offer was there and if you didn’t mind Jackson being involved.” She grinned and Stiles gaped at her, his mouth hanging open for a second before he shook his head in disbelief and moved back to the sofa. 

“What every boy dreams of, offers of a threesome.” He muttered sarcastically and Lydia smirked wickedly. 

“I know you do. And you know that I do enjoy making dreams come true.” She said and Stiles rolled his eyes, huffing out a laugh and turning his attention back to the rest of the pack, surprised that they all seemed shocked by what had just happened. 

“Sorry, we, um, there was a bit of a running joke at one point, about well…it doesn’t matter. Point is. Inside joke. Not genuine offer.” Stiles rambled. 

“That’s a shame. I would have been happy to make my own offer.” Peter smiled and Stiles rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, sure, I’m up for that.” He said sarcastically. 

“What? Really?” Derek asked sounding panicked and Stiles looked at him in disbelief. 

“Um. No. Obviously.” Stiles said in amusement. “Anyway, can we get back to what we were talking about originally. Lydia broke the barrier. All of you should be in awe of her.” Stiles commented. 

“Why couldn’t any of us break it?” Jason asked, obviously trying to help Stiles change the subject and Stiles grinned at him gratefully.

“It was made with the intent of protecting the portal. It should have stayed sealed. The only people that would be able to cross through it would be Catherine or Faye or me. That way nobody could mess with her spell by stumbling on it. But I’ve never seen it broken before, they use the ash of children’s bones to form the circle, mainly because of the power that they invoke. If I’m honest, it’s damn impressive, not the barrier, although it has it’s moments, but the fact Lyds broke it down, just amazing really. Obviously, witches are powerful and Catherine is one of the highest up there, to be able to take down one of her barriers, well it’s pretty mind-blowing.” Stiles rambled still grinning at Lydia proudly and she smiled widely, accepting the praise happily. 

“Did you say the ash of children’s bones?” Liam asked disgusted.

“Hmm?” Stiles queried, his mind already racing with his next thoughts, “Erm, yeah, I guess I did, but you know, witches dude. Anyway, trust you to only notice that out of the whole entire rant that I just gave about how powerful that barrier was and how badass Lydia is.” Stiles replied, leaning back against the cushions and resting his eyes for a second, trying to stop his head from spinning. There was silence for a moment or two before Derek cleared his throat and looked at Stiles.

“You said Catherine is one of the most powerful witches. She’s not dead then? I mean, it would be great if it did, but, I’m guessing you didn’t kill her with that big explosion?” Derek asked uncertainly.

“Unfortunately not, she’s still alive. All I did was send her back to her home. Admittedly she’d going to be feeling it for a while. Which gives us a bit of time to plan.” Stiles said solemnly.

“What about her sister?” Derek asked.

“Which one?” Stiles replied.

“Margaret, the one whose throat you tore out with your teeth?” Derek asked grinning, it widening when Stiles grinned right back at him.

“I really need to thank you for that particular idea, turns out it’s very effective.” He teased, “And she is most definitely dead.” Stiles confirmed. “However, the other sister, Elizabeth, isn’t. And she’s like, well, the most powerful witch in the realm apparently. Thankfully, she wasn’t overly pissed about Margaret, I mean a little bit, but a month of torture and she was bored so not overly pissed. But she is going to be pissed that I shoved Catherine back into their world with her tail between her legs. She’s going to be coming, and for that we need a serious plan.” 

“So she doesn’t mind you killing her sister, but humiliate the other one and it’ll be war?” Leo asked curiously.

“Witches man. I’m going to keep saying it. They’re all fucked in the head. Margaret fucked up, she made a mistake, let her guard down, that’s why she’s dead, it was a just punishment really, if I hadn’t been able to kill her, if I’d just wounded her, Elizabeth would have killed her the second she found out about it. But, Catherine, that’s a different story, she got defeated by a mortal, well, at least temporarily defeated. That won’t stand. If word gets out across the realm that her little sister got her ass handed to her by a mortal and Elizabeth didn’t gut him then she won’t be able to hold her position for long. She’ll be a laughing stock.” 

“You said she tortured you for a month.” Noah said, his voice hollow, the mood of the room suddenly turning sombre.

“Yeah, she did. But it wasn’t that bad. In the scale of things.” Stiles said flippantly.

“How can you say that kid? She tortured you for a month. For defending yourself. How can you say it wasn’t that bad? This is all my fault. If I’d just been stronger…” Noah said trailing off, Stiles paused, going to his dad, hugging him gently, as if to reassure him that he was still here.

“I can say it wasn’t that bad because it wasn’t. Elizabeth is straight to the point. She went for straight up pain. It was better in a way. It kept my head clear. Yeah, it hurt, I won’t lie. But there was no manipulation. But it is not your fault. None of you. Nobody could fight against Catherine. She is the master of control. If you’d managed to break free of her hold, she would have snapped your neck, and then she would have found a way to twist it to make it my fault. She is born to manipulate people. I don’t blame you dad. I would never blame you.” Stiles said, hugging his dad as hard as he could.

 

Derek had been numb when he had seen Stiles lying unconscious in the bed upstairs, seeing first-hand the damage that his body had suffered, he had been tortured repeatedly, that much was obvious. The tattoos were fascinating, the different shapes and some kind of underlying strength to them, he wanted to trace every inch of them, memorize them, but instead his attention was drawn to the scars that littered his body. He noticed the five small scars across his side that looked like claws had punctured his soft flesh, the fine white lines across his stomach where someone had cut into Stiles at least a thousand times, the large, ragged scar on his chest where Catherine had stabbed him, the faded burn marks down his arms, the brutal marks where she carved that hateful word into his skin, he was not hers, he would never be hers. Derek’s only consolation was that they had faded, that the majority of them were covered by Stiles’ tattoos. It was obvious that Stiles had been through hell and Derek wished, with everything he had, that he could go back, fix things somehow.  
As they were turning to leave Derek caught sight of the scars running up Stiles’ arms from his wrist, they were bright and red and angry, they couldn’t have been done more than a month ago, maybe just before he came home, he didn’t think anyone else had noticed them, as the tattoos seemed to be growing over them, although Derek had no idea how that was even possible. It looked like someone had slit Stiles’ wrists, or worse he had done it to himself. 

When he’d listened to Bobby explain about the witching realm, about the time difference, he had nearly fallen apart, feeling his wolf whine in pain at the thought of it, how could Stiles had survived that? Why didn’t he talk to them about it? Derek knew the answer to that one, it was obvious to him now, it was because Stiles had thought that they didn’t want him. That they’d betrayed him. He’d watched in near silence as Stiles had appeared at the bottom of the stairs, as he’d passed out, as he caught him and helped Noah ease him to the ground, as Bobby and Malia told them everything they knew. Then he watched as Stiles woke up, he was near the front of the pack, desperate to see Stiles’ eyes open and know that he was okay, so when Stiles blasted them all backwards, he hit the wall fairly hard, thankfully nothing felt broken which was a good thing. Derek had picked himself up and brushed himself off and listened to Stiles as he talked about Catherine, Margaret and Elizabeth, as he explained what they were like, calmly, casually, as if they weren’t the ones responsible for the fact that Stiles had been tortured for the past six years.

Derek had struggled to keep his heart beat from racing when Stiles teased him about how effective Derek’s idea had been, just the sound of his voice, the way he had the ability to lighten the mood so easily, even when they were talking about something so brutal, it made his heart skip a beat, it gave him butterflies, and he could only hope that Stiles didn’t realise that. 

Hearing Stiles talk about the cruelty he had suffered at the hands of the witches, how he spoke so casually about how Elizabeth had tortured him for a month, it made him so angry, how could he not see how important he was? How could he dismiss torture as anything less? Derek found himself clenching his fists as Stiles explained to his dad how it was only physical pain, as if that made things better. Derek wasn’t sure he ever remembered being so angry before, he was filled with rage, with hatred, he wanted to rip them apart piece by piece and his wolf agreed with him. He wouldn’t let them get their hand on Stiles. They would never touch him again, not while Derek was still breathing. 

“So how long do you think we have before they turn up?” He asked eventually, already planning on all the ways in which he could kill them for ever laying a hand on Stiles.

“A couple of days, maybe a week if we’re lucky.” Stiles said quietly, the pack all watching him silently, waiting for him to continue, instead Stiles just pursed his lips, obviously deep in thought and Derek couldn’t help the fond smile on his lips, Stiles was gorgeous, even when he was in his own little world, his brow furrowed as he tried to plan for every outcome, he was still the most gorgeous person Derek had ever laid eyes on. 

“Okay, well, we’ll fight them off, just like every bad thing that’s come our way before.” Scott said optimistically into the silence, Derek rolled his eyes, he locked eyes with Stiles who had just finished his own eye roll and they couldn’t help but grin at each other. 

“You can’t fight them Scotty, you’ve met Catherine, right? You know that powerful witch who stopped you from moving, and of course, she’s most likely going to be bringing her even more powerful older sister with her. Maybe we’ll get lucky and it’ll just be Elizabeth, but, not likely, Catherine will want to be here to see the outcome. What are you going to do to stop her? Growl at her?” Stiles explained, “I’m not trying to be rude or mean or whatever, but, honestly, you can’t fight magic Scott, you know that, you’ve experienced it first-hand. You won’t be able to fight them off.” Scott looked down at his feet sheepishly, embarrassment causing his cheeks to flush red.

“Alright, so do we have an actual plan?” Cora asked, “I mean, if we can’t fight them because we don’t have magic, and you, no offence, only just beat Catherine, there’s no way you’re going to be able to beat both of them, so, we can’t fight. Do we run?” She said, looking to Scott. Derek watched as Stiles traced over the scars at his wrists, his mind racing, it was obvious that Stiles was thinking of a way to fight, to beat them, and Derek wished he could read his mind, wished he could see how it all worked and slotted together and how Stiles pieced together things that none of the rest of the could. 

“I’ve got a few ideas.” Stiles mumbled, he was fidgeting uncomfortably, rubbing his temples in weariness, Derek wanted to suggest that it could wait, that Stiles needed to rest, to recover, but, he also knew that they didn’t have long until Catherine and Elizabeth could be coming, and that Stiles wouldn’t want to rest, not until they had some kind of plan in place, so instead Derek continued to watch Stiles as he shifted uncomfortably, as he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to come up with a plan that would work. 

“You smell like fear.” Derek said suddenly without preamble, he hadn’t realised the words were going to spew from his mouth, but he hadn’t been able to stop them once he’d caught the scent of Stiles’ fear.

“Damn your wolfy powers.” Stiles replied sarcastically before sighing, “Of course I’m scared. You would be too if you knew anything about them.” 

“It’s not that kind of fear.” Derek insisted, Stiles paused, taking a deep breath before glaring at Derek.

“What do I smell of now?” He said.

“Anger…” Derek paused, “And electricity.”

“Wow, two out of two with those wolf senses. Yeah, I’m angry, at you, and that electric smell, that’s my power building up, gathering under the surface, just waiting for me to zap you. So how about you don’t annoy me and let me think.” Stiles growled.

“You aren’t afraid of them. It’s not that kind of fear.” Derek pressed and Stiles frowned. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” Stiles said, but the lie was obvious to all of them, even those without supernatural hearing. 

“It’s not fear of them. You’re scared. But not of them. They don’t scare you.” Derek explained. 

“I’m way past being able to be afraid of them.” Stiles agreed. “There’s only so much you can take before it’s not possible to be afraid anymore. I know that no matter what they do, I won’t break. But, what they could do to you, to all of you, yeah, that terrifies me, more than anything you could ever imagine. So yeah, I’m not scared of them. I’m scared for you. Which is why we need to have a plan. The plan. The plan that means you all get out of this alive.” 

“The plan that means WE all get out of this alive.” Derek amended and Stiles rolled his eyes before leaning back about pillows and closing his eyes, trying to focus.

 

Stiles hated this, hated the knowledge that he’d finally put his demons to rest, finally got his family back, and now he was going to lose them. He had a few options available, none of them good. He could run, drag the pack with him, hope that they ran far enough and long enough that Catherine and Elizabeth gave up. He didn’t think that would happen though. He could offer himself up to them, hope that they’d kill him and spare his pack, or they’d take him back there and still spare his pack. He nearly snorted at the thought of either of them ever showing any mercy. 

Which left him with the final option. To fight. Even though he knew it would end bloody. So long as he protected his pack it would be okay. So long as they survived. He didn’t deserve to. He was too broken. He’d done awful things, things that he wouldn’t ever forgive himself for. If he could just protect them, one final time, then it would be worth it. His fingers traced the scars on his wrists, knowing how much it had taken from him to escape, he didn’t want to go back, he would rather die than go back, so long as he made sure they were safe first.

He visualised a symbol in his mind, the one he had to believe would be enough to protect them, if only he could get them all to agree to it. He cracked open his eyes, not sure how long he had been thinking things through. There were a few whispered conversations throughout the room, which suggested it had been longer than he thought. He cleared his throat, waiting until he had everyone’s attention.

“How do you guys feel about getting a tattoo?” He asked quickly, praying they wouldn’t argue with him. He earned a few curious looks, he should maybe give them a bit more of an explanation, but how could he word it without telling them the whole plan? 

“Will it help us fight them?” Dean asked from the corner of the room. Stiles nodded quickly, glad that Dean hadn’t asked why. “Fine with me.” Dean said seriously. “So long as it’s not a fluffy pink unicorn or some crap.” Stiles grinned.

“I can do that for you after if you really want.” He smiled.

“Not a chance. I’ll get your tattoo. If you think it will make a difference. But otherwise no inking me. I think you’ve got enough for all of us.” Dean quipped and Stiles blushed.

“Oh, right, yeah, you guys have seen them now.” He commented nervously, the whole room nodded and Stiles grimaced, he’d never wanted them to see, never wanted them to know how low he had fallen in an attempt to save himself. 

“We saw the scars too.” Scott said quietly and Stiles felt himself sink into the sofa, of course they’d seen them, he pulled on the sleeves of his shirt uncomfortably, wanting to hide the evidence as much as he could.

“Yeah. Okay. Right. Sure.” Stiles said tightly, trying to process that they knew, he only hoped that they had no idea what all the different symbols meant, that they wouldn’t realise what depths he had sunk to. “Okay. That’s fine. So. Tattoos. Who wants one?” 

“What will they do?” Percy asked from the chair next to Bobby.

“Erm, well, it’s kind of an added protection. What I’m hoping they will do is reduce the amount of damage that their magic can do to you, that they won’t be able to hurt you. I mean, they would still probably be able to control you to a certain extent, it’ll take extra magic to do it though, and they wouldn’t be able to hurt you, like they wouldn’t be able to just snap your neck with a thought, they could probably still like stab you or whatever, but, they won’t be able to hurt you with their magic, or make you hurt each other.” Stiles said quickly, hoping that they wouldn’t ask any more questions.

“Sure thing buddy. I’m in. Let’s do it.” Scott said enthusiastically, taking his t-shirt off. “Where are we doing this?” Stiles grimaced nervously, he was glad Scott had agreed to it so easily, but, it didn’t mean Stiles wasn’t nervous about doing the actual tattoos.

“Okay, well give me five minutes. I need to just mix some ink together. Just point me to the kitchen.” He replied as confidently as he could manage under the circumstances. 

As soon as Stiles entered the kitchen he got to work, thankfully the ink he used was a very special combination, one that would regrow over damaged skin and one that he was certain would stay on the wolves skin, despite the fact their skin would usually heal instantly, he was glad that he didn’t have to use blowtorches instead, he really didn’t want to face the smell of burned skin again. He waved his fingers softly and pulled the small supply of ink that had magically appeared out of his back pocket, he poured it into a bowl on the counter, encouraging the mixture to expand so that he would have enough for the whole pack. The next part was the hard part, he cast a quick spell so that the wolves wouldn’t smell what he was about to do, ignoring the fact that he already felt unsteady on his feet which was probably because of his exhaustion, but, he couldn’t rest yet. He needed to build up his magical reserves, but, more importantly, he needed to protect his pack first. He cut his hand quickly, barely wincing, spilling his blood into the ink, having to believe that it would be enough. He sealed the cut with a thought, dropped the spell that had hidden the scent of his blood from the pack and then stared at the ink in the below. 

“You will work. You will protect them.” He whispered. Belief had helped him to accomplish things he never would have dreamed of before. He had to believe that this would work too. This would protect them too. If it came to it. A last resort. “Alright Scotty. You’re up.” Stiles called out and Scott walked into the kitchen, sitting in a kitchen chair and eyeing the bowl in Stiles’ hands uncertainly, looking more than a little bit nervous as the rest of the pack gathered to watch. “It needs to be as close to your heart as possible okay?” Stiles advised and Scott nodded, “So, on your front or back?” 

“Front.” Scott said decisively, not caring that he was about to get an unknown tattoo from Stiles, knowing that the pack would follow his lead. “I’m hoping that this is going to look better than your usual artwork.” Scott joked and Stiles grinned.

“Honestly, no faith Scotty. I’ve improved since fourth grade.” Stiles teased and Scott chuckled.

“I hope so.” 

“Okay, try to stay as still as possible. It’ll probably tingle a little, but it shouldn’t hurt. Let me know if it does.” Stiles advised as Scott settled in the chair in front of him.

Scott nodded and then watched with curiosity as Stiles dipped his hand in the bowl of ink on the table. Stiles’ whole palm was covered in ink and Scott really hoped he wasn’t about to get a handprint across his chest, he didn’t think Allison would mind, but, still, there are other things he would prefer to have inked into his chest for the rest of his life. Stiles placed his hand on his chest and Scott tensed at the coldness of the ink on his skin. Stiles closed his eyes, focused on the image he had conjured up, the symbol of protection, that would ensure no witches magic ever worked on Scott or any of the pack again, he thought of Scott, all the small, little things that Stiles knew about him, that made Scott such an important part of him. It looked a little like the dark half of the yin and yang symbol, but longer, more of a point than a circle, and about the size of his thumb. Stiles concentrated, feeling the ink begin to move to his command. 

Scott let out a small breath as the ink took hold and when Stiles removed his hand he was glad to see it had come out exactly as he had wanted. His hand was completely free of ink, all of it in Scott’s tattoo.

“How do you feel?” Stiles said, resting a hand on Scott’s shoulder. 

“That was it?” Scott looked down and marvelled at the simple tattoo on his chest. “Stiles, it’s beautiful.” Stiles gave him a small smile, happy with his work.

“It’ll do the job. That’s the important thing. Alright who’s next?” There was a small scuffle as a queue formed out of the kitchen door. Stiles grinned as Dean sat in the chair, Stiles was surprised to see Dean already had a tattoo and he raised his eyebrows slightly in question.

“Stops demonic possession.” Dean explained quietly.

“Impressive. You want it on your back then?” Stiles asked.

“Could you do it next to it? Would it work there?” Dean asked. Stiles looked closely at the tattoo.

“I could do just underneath and a little to the right?” Stiles offered.

“Fine with me.” Dean replied. Stiles dipped his hand in the ink again and placed his hand against Dean’s chest, he closed his eyes, he concentrated on Dean, everything he knew about him, everything he thought about him and willed the ink into place. “Thanks Stiles.” Dean said a few minutes later when Stiles removed his hand. 

Stiles just nodded, he was surprised just how much this normally small spell was taking out of him, admittedly he usually just did it on himself and he’d never done it on another person before, but still, it shouldn’t be this exhausting. Slowly he worked his way through the pack, repeating the process over and over, pouring all of his belief into the spell, believing that this would work. He stopped once or twice to get a glass of water, trying to clear the fuzziness in his head. His dad hadn’t been overly happy about getting a tattoo, but he knew it was necessary. Melissa had asked for it on her back and Stiles had obliged, as had the rest of the girls, apart from Malia, the men had been a mixture of front and back and Stiles didn’t really mind, so long as it worked. Each pack member retired to the living room after he had completed their tattoos, giving him a bit of space to finish the last few. He could hear them laughing about something and his heart swelled with love, this was his pack, he was home.

Eventually there was only Derek left and he sat down in the chair almost nervously. 

“Alright Der, front or back?” Stiles asked, trying to ignore the fact that Derek looked apprehensive about this whole thing. 

“Front I think.” Derek said after a moment, before pulling off his shirt and relaxing slightly in the chair. Stiles’ heart beat was going crazy, he was certain of it, Derek was gorgeous, he’d always thought he was amazing, and then there was the thing with breaking free of Catherine’s spell to warn Stiles of what was really happening. Of course, Stiles had tried to downplay it, instead being amazed by Lydia breaking through the barrier, but, really, if Derek hadn’t broken free of Catherine’s spell in the first place, Stiles might not have even fought back, not really, not like he did. The last thing he wanted was for Derek to know how much Stiles still cared about him, Derek might not have meant the things Catherine forced him to say, but that didn’t mean he was in love with Stiles.

He tried to concentrate on the task at hand, focus on giving Derek the tattoo that would protect him from Catherine, Stiles hesitated a moment and then placed his hand firmly against the smooth planes of Derek’s chest. He closed his eyes and focused on the protection spell, focused on Derek, on his belief that he would be safe, that this would protect Derek, that no harm would come to him. Stiles was exhausted and the spell seemed to be taking longer than usual, eventually, he felt the magic click in to place and he removed his hand slowly. Stiles was surprised to see that the symbol was a little different than all the others. It would still work, maybe more so than the others, but it had a few extra lines to it, making it look more like a small feather than anything else. 

“Okay. All done I guess.” Stiles said uncertainly after a moment, Derek stared down at his chest before his gaze met Stiles’. 

“You don’t sound overly sure?” Derek queried.

“Nope, it’s finished. I’m just tired that’s all.” Stiles replied honestly, heading to the sink and getting more water. He knew he needed to rest if he wanted any chance of defeating them, but he also knew he needed every minute he had to plan their fight.

“Stiles, can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” Derek asked quietly. Stiles nodded, glancing to the door where he could still hear the laughter from the living room, Derek stood up from the chair, moving across to lean next to Stiles against the kitchen counter. “Earlier, when we brought you back here, you were out of it, I saw your tattoos and I saw your scars.” Derek stated, reaching across to brush his fingertips across the scars at Stiles’ wrists, hidden under the sleeves of his t-shirt. “What happened here?” He asked almost silently, as if he was afraid to hear the answer. Stiles met his eyes, he knew that Derek wouldn’t demand the answer from him, but for some reason Stiles found himself wanting to tell him, that he didn’t mind if Derek knew the truth. 

“I was escaping. I’d managed to get away from Elizabeth’s cells and I was running for a portal, even though I’d tried a hundred times before and I’d never made it, I just couldn’t stop trying. I knew I wasn’t going to make it. I knew they’d catch me and take me back and torture me and I honestly didn’t think I would make it any longer, that I’d break. And then they’d kill you, all of you. I’d heard Margaret and Catherine talking months earlier. They’d said that they couldn’t kill me, not before they broke me, if I died still protecting you, then the spell would be sealed with my death. They’d never get near the nemeton or Beacon Hills. They couldn’t kill me. They had to break me first.” He paused, worried how Derek was handling this information, but he was just staring at him, waiting for the rest of the story. “I grabbed a knife, I was just going to go straight for my heart, but I was scared I would mess it up, that I wouldn’t have the strength to do it. So, I went with my wrists. I thought I had enough time. I thought I’d bleed out before they found me. I didn’t. Faye found me and Catherine healed up the cuts, not enough to stop them from scarring, just enough to make sure I didn’t die. That’s the way she always did it, she liked that I’d always have reminders of our times together. As they were pulling me back towards her house, we passed by the portal, I was so close, so close to getting home,” He paused for a minute, trying to hold back the tears at the memory, “I was fighting her with everything I had, and I managed to knock over another witch, she got up cursing and shouting at Catherine that her pets shouldn’t be out in public if she couldn’t control them. They started to argue, then they started to fight. I managed to kick out of Faye’s grip, she tore open the cuts as I escaped her and then I fell through the portal.” Stiles glanced down at his wrists, allowing the scars to become visible for a moment. “I think that’s the reason I got through. I’d tried before, but I didn’t know at that point that the portals needed a blood sacrifice if a human wanted to travel through. The fact that I was bleeding when I went through, I think that’s the only reason I made it home. If Faye hadn’t split them open again, I think I would have still been stuck there.” He sucked in a breath, terrified at that thought. “I healed them up as best as I could when I woke up in the woods, but I wasn’t at my best, I’d lost a lot of blood. I passed out and when I woke up again, I realized where I was and I started to head back here.” Stiles glanced at Derek to see that his jaw was clenched tightly, as if trying to hold himself off from saying something that would no doubt upset Stiles, he clenched his fists a few times before finally turning to look at Stiles. 

“Thank you Stiles.” Derek said, the confusion must have been obvious on Stiles’ face as he continued, “Thank you for telling me. Thank you for being brave enough to do that. For wanting to save us even when you thought we all hated you.” 

“It wasn’t exactly brave, I was cowering in the back of a shed, convinced I was about to become vampire chow.” Stiles said dismissively.

“It was. You are so brave Stiles, all the time. You have no idea how,” Derek paused, taking a steadying breath, “You are amazing Stiles, you are incredible and I wish…I wish so many things were different, but, the thing I wish the most, is that I’d never left in the first place.” 

“Yeah, but, you had to. Beacon Hills isn’t exactly full of happy memories for you. I’m sorry that you had to come back just to help save my ass. And, I guess, well, obviously Braeden isn’t on the scene anymore, I assume she didn’t want to come back here either, so, sorry for that too.” Stiles apologised. 

“I didn’t leave because of the things that have happened here.” Derek said, laughing gently at how ridiculous Stiles could be, “I left because the Desert Wolf was still a threat, and I couldn’t risk her coming back here.”

“Oh. Well. I guess that makes sense too. Did you find her?” Stiles asked, sounding genuinely surprised that he’d never thought of that scenario. 

“Yeah, I did, and, the minute she was dead, I shifted back and that’s when I got your voicemail.” Derek said and Stiles tensed, looking suddenly terrified. 

“About that, I mean…I was…I shouldn’t have…I was just…I’m sorry.” Stiles said, his voice trailing off in shame. 

“Sorry? Sorry for what?” Derek asked. 

“I mean, I know you don’t…I shouldn’t have said…I obviously made things uncomfortable…I…god, this is embarrassing.” Stiles said, running a hand through his hair nervously, “Okay, so, yeah, I said certain things, and, I meant them, and I won’t apologise for that, because I did mean them. But, I shouldn’t have tried to force my feelings on to you, or try to use them to guilt you in to coming back here, so, sorry. And, I won’t bring it up again, I won’t, like, I don’t expect anything from you, that’s not what this is. I just, I was scared, and I wanted the one person who always makes me feels like nothing can ever hurt me, and, it was a mistake and I’m sorry.” Stiles rambled, Derek shook his head sadly, looking distraught. 

“I was never sure if you got my message or not. I always hoped you did, but, from the timeline, Dean and I reckon that it probably arrived the same day you were put in the caves. That you never heard it. This confirms it.” Derek said sadly.

“You rang back?” Stiles asked, he was confused, he tried to recall that day, he was sat in the jeep, his phone started ringing just as he was backing out of the diner’s car lot, then he’d seen the impala in the rear view, and, everything had happened so fast. He couldn’t believe it, that phone call had been Derek. Derek had called him. If he’d just answered the freaking phone, things might have been so different. 

“Yeah, I rang back Stiles. I’m just sorry it took me so long. I was hunting the desert wolf in wolf form, and, when I shifted back to human, I had no idea where my phone was, I lost it, maybe a day or two after leaving you guys in the first place, I think maybe Braeden took it with her, but, honestly, I don’t know, I didn’t see her after that. I didn’t want to see her. But then I got your message and all I wanted was to get back here, because I let you down so badly, I should have been here. I’m sorry.” Derek said. 

“It’s cool. Don’t worry about it. I managed.” Stiles shrugged casually. 

“No. It’s not cool. Stiles. I…I love you too. You know that, right? I’d do anything for you. I left because you were with Malia and the desert wolf was a threat to you and I was scared if I didn’t stop her then nobody would, and you’d end up dead. But, god, I love you. I love you so much and the thought that I wasn’t here, when you needed me, that you believed Catherine, I just, I hate it. I hate that I failed you that badly. That you didn’t realise how much you mean to me.” Derek confessed. Stiles stared at him in disbelief, unable to process what Derek was saying. 

“You, um, you love me?” Stiles whispered and Derek nodded seriously, his eyes almost pleading with Stiles to believe him.

“I didn’t leave Beacon Hills because it made me feel bad, I met you here, I wouldn’t ever want to leave. It has bad memories, but it has great ones too. I only left to make sure you couldn’t get hurt. And I failed. But, I, I love you Stiles, and I’ll never leave you again, I mean, if you want me. I know I said some awful things, but, I promise you, that was all her, I never, ever thought like that. I think you’re amazing and brilliant and clever and sarcastic and devious and you make me laugh and frustrate the hell out of me, like, seriously, why have you got no sense of self-preservation? It’s like you try to find the most danger and throw yourself straight at it and yet you’re perfect in every way imaginable and I just, I love you.” Derek explained while Stiles just gaped at him. 

“I can’t believe that you think all that…” Stiles started, still staring at him in disbelief, about to continue when there was a sudden shout from the living room and they looked at each other, “To be continued.” Stiles said quickly and Derek gave him a small grin before both of them rushed through to see what was happening. 

 

Noah had watched the determination on his son’s face as he gave them all a tattoo. He couldn’t help but feel admiration and pride, his son had overcome the most horrendous of situations, had learned from them, come out stronger than any of them could have imagined. He wasn’t sure that he had ever been prouder. 

The atmosphere was calm, relaxed almost, despite the fact that they knew the witches would no doubt be coming for them sooner or later, right now, in this moment they were all together and all okay and that was all that mattered.

He couldn’t help the shout of surprise when Bobby stood up to his feet almost unsteadily and pulled out his gun, training it on Dean who stared at him in disbelief.

“Bobby, what the hell are you doing?” Dean asked as Stiles and Derek appeared from the kitchen. Bobby didn’t look like himself, his movements were almost mechanical, and although his finger looked to be tightening on the trigger, it was also twitching dangerously. Noah pulled out his own gun and aimed it at Bobby, ready to pull the trigger the second it was necessary, although he prayed it wouldn’t be.

“Bobby, put the gun down this second.” Noah ordered, hoping his tone of authority would make the man put his gun down.

“I can’t.” Bobby growled, the effort behind those words made Noah worried, it was only when Stiles slapped a hand to his forehead in disbelief, groaning in annoyance, before taking a step forward. 

“But you can’t pull the trigger either can you Elizabeth?” Stiles taunted mockingly, the pack all staring at him like he’d lost his mind as Bobby’s gaze went to him but his finger was still tight on the trigger pointing at Dean. “You always were a show off, but you’re never actually able to finish the job, are you?” He grinned.

“You little shit. I’m coming for you. I’ll make last time look like child’s play.” Bobby spat out, his face contorting as the words were pulled from his throat.

“Last time was child’s play.” Stiles mocked. “You’re powerless here. Pathetic. Now leave.” Stiles demanded.

“You don’t order me mortal. You have no power over me.” Bobby growled.

Stiles scowled, the whole room crackled with electricity and Noah felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He looked at his son who looked oddly calm, his eyes glowing bright amber with power, he looked dangerous, and Noah felt a sigh of relief, Stiles would beat her. Stiles was powerful and dangerous, these witches wouldn’t stand a chance.

“I warned you Elizabeth.” Stiles said before taking a step towards Bobby and slamming his glowing palm into the man’s chest. A bright light shot out and filled the room as Bobby was knocked a step backwards, the man staggered slightly but Stiles caught him before he fell over. “Are you okay Bobby?” Stiles asked his voice filled with concern.

“Witches!” Bobby cursed. “I can’t wait to kill the lot of them.” He grumbled.

“Join the queue.” Stiles said sending a small grin his way. 

“So, they’re here then?” Scott asked worriedly. 

“No.” Stiles said quietly. “It was a message; a show of what Elizabeth can do. What she will do when she gets here, it won’t be long. They’ll be here tomorrow I’m sure.” His voice was weak, shaky and Noah wasn’t surprised when Stiles found the nearest chair and sunk down into it before his legs gave out.

“Kid? You okay?” Noah asked stepping towards him. Stiles nodded at him reassuringly through tired eyes. 

“Fine. Just a bit worn out. I’ll be fine.” Stiles said to him. 

“You should rest.” Noah said quietly, looking at his exhausted son. 

“I will do. Just not yet.” Stiles replied. “I’ve got things to do if we’re going to have any chance against them.” Stiles said getting to his feet. 

“You won’t be able fight them if you’re too exhausted to stand.” Noah advised in his best parental tone.

“I know. I’ll sleep soon. But there’s things I need to do and now is the only time to do it, I need to prepare which means I can’t waste time sleeping until things are done.” Stiles said, no room for argument in his voice.

“Well, what can we do to help?” Dean said looking at his cousin with concern. Stiles shook his head slowly. 

“Unless you’ve started doing magic, nothing. You lot should go to sleep. I’ll just do a few things and then I’ll sleep.” Stiles said, gesturing that he was going to go outside.

There were a few grumbles about not being able to help but eventually the whole pack headed to their rooms upstairs and Noah watched his son for a moment before nodding in agreement and heading upstairs. His son was a grown up, so he might only be eighteen, but his son hadn’t been a child in so long, ever since his mother died, Stiles had been taking care of him, taking care of everyone. He’d seen such awful things, survived such awful things, his eyes told Noah that he’d never forget any of it. His son was an adult and Noah had to accept he couldn’t tell Stiles what to do, hadn’t been able to tell him what to do for so long. He just had to accept that Stiles knew what he was doing, it went against every one of Noah’s instincts, but this wasn’t something he could protect Stiles from, even though he would do anything necessary if it meant that he could. He gave Stiles a pat on the shoulder before heading up to bed.

 

Stiles went outside taking a deep breath of the fresh air before taking a few steps before the woods, he wanted to finish his conversation with Derek, but, if he was honest with himself, there was a good chance that he was going to die tomorrow, even if the pack were protected, the last thing he wanted to do was tell Derek how much he loved him and then leave him like everyone else had done. 

He had a lot of work to do if he had any chance of not having to use his last resort, he couldn’t think about Derek, not now, not yet, he needed to get everything else sorted first. He sat down in the middle of a small clearing and closed his eyes, before he could do anything else, he needed to draw some energy from his surroundings, he slowed his heart beat, breathed in and out slowly, felt his connection to the world around him open slowly. He’d only done this a few times before and every time it had been in the witching realm. It wasn’t like there was anything living or healthy in that world, so when he felt the energy flowing in the large oak nearby; he was nearly floored by it. He had never felt anything with such strength before. It was an amazing feeling, his energy levels suddenly shooting through the roof, he felt like he could do anything, like he was unstoppable, and all from a bit of energy from the tree. He stopped drawing energy after a minute, not wanting to cause any damage to the ancient tree. He silently sent his thanks, surprised at how easy that had seemed, he’d gained more energy than he had ever had before and nothing had died from it, the tree was unharmed and Stiles marvelled at how much life was around him. 

He strode through the woods, placing wards, casting spells that would cause Catherine and Elizabeth harm if they were careless. He didn’t think they would be that stupid, but it was worth a shot. He drew a bit more energy part way through the preserve and couldn’t help but be amazed, he’d never felt so hyped up, so powerful, in all his life.

There was one more thing he needed to do if he wanted his last resort to work, if it came to that, which he really hoped it wouldn’t. He pulled out a little bit of ink, spread it smoothly on his palm and then placed it over a blank piece of skin near his heart. He had to believe that this would work. It would work. There was no other option.

The moon shone brightly on him as he trudged through the preserve, he lost track of time as he formed a protective circle around the house. It was at least three miles wide, he prayed that it would give him enough notice when they came. He scouted out a clearing inside the circle, deciding that this would be the best place to fight, when they came, this is where he would make his stand. 

He thought out every possible outcome, predicted how he thought they would attack, how he would fight back. He had no possible chance of beating them both at once, he had to split them up. He had to separate them and pray he could kill one of them, maybe his pack would be able to distract one of them for long enough for him to take care of the other one. 

It was a crap plan, he knew that, but he didn’t know what else to do. They were coming, there was no stopping that. The only thing he could do was meet them head on. And he always had the last resort, the spell that would protect his family for the rest of their lives, that would make sure they would never have to worry about Catherine or Elizabeth or any other witches again.

Stiles finally made it back to the house just as the sun was rising, he sat down on the bottom step of the front porch, all of his energy suddenly gone. He wanted to head back to the clearing from earlier, pull a bit more energy from the oak tree, but he was too tired to even stand up. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the side of the house.

He was woken up abruptly as somebody stepped in front of him, blocking his face from the warmth of the sun. He opened his eyes and saw Derek standing in front of him, a scowl on his face and his arms folded across his chest, Stiles could say he looked worried, but, he couldn’t say for sure, instead Stiles just stared at him blearily.

“What’s up Derek?” Stiles asked, his voice dry.

“How long have you been out here?” Derek asked quietly, Stiles definitely picked up on the worry in his tone.

“I don’t know.” Stiles said looking around him, slowly standing and stretching, feeling a deep ache in his muscles. “I guess all night.” 

“Go to bed Stiles. You need sleep.” Derek said seriously. 

“I was asleep. Until you came and interrupted that.” He said, rubbing at the ache in his neck. 

“Come on Stiles, you are the best weapon we have. We need you to be at your best.” Derek said, gripping his elbow tightly, Stiles thought that might be to keep him upright, and leading Stiles towards the house, as soon as they stepped through the door Stiles could smell the bacon cooking and his stomach rumbled. But the sofa was calling to him. He slumped down into it and Derek glanced back over his shoulder.

“Stiles? Don’t you want some food?” 

“Later. Wake me up when it’s done.” He said his eyes already slipping closed.

 

Lydia came down the stairs quietly, she was so glad that she’d insisted on soundproofing her room. She’d woken up screaming, she’d dreamed of Stiles dying, dreamed of him bursting into flames, she’d dreamed of a knife being plunged into his chest, she’d dreamed of him being held underwater by an unseen force, she’d dreamed of his blood spilling over the ground, she’d crouched down next to his body, she’d held him as the light faded from his eyes, cried over him, begged him to stay with them. She screamed, screamed until Jackson had been able to wake her up, tears streaming down her face as Jackson held her tightly and reassured her that everything was okay, that Stiles wasn’t really dead, that he was only downstairs, that he was okay.

It had taken Jackson nearly ten minutes to calm her down enough, ten minutes for her to recognise it was a dream and hadn’t really happened. She’d gone to the bathroom and showered quickly, washing away the appearance of her nightmare. She’d got dressed in a pair of soft jeans and a t-shirt, knowing that there was a good chance she was going to end up fighting for her life today, usually she’d go with a dress and heels, but she’d tripped one too many times in the preserve before so she knew casual was the right way to go. She gripped Jackson’s hand tightly as they headed down the stairs together, using the warmth of his hand to ground herself in reality, Stiles wasn’t dead, he was okay, he was alive.

She looked across the living room, her eyes going straight to Stiles who was fast asleep on the sofa, his skin pale against the dark sofa, she felt like she could finally breath, seeing him lying there, seeing him breathing. He was okay. That was what mattered, what finally released the ball of worry in her chest, it had felt so real, been so vivid, she was still convinced it was true, that it was a premonition of how the day was going to end and she was terrified. She walked past him quietly, afraid to wake him up, knowing he needed his sleep if they wanted any chance of winning. She stepped into the kitchen, seeing Noah, Scott, Sam, Dean and Derek were already in there. 

“Morning.” Scott said quietly. Lydia nodded to him in greeting before pouring herself a glass of orange juice and sitting down at the counter.

“Do we know what the plan is yet?” She asked without preamble and watched as they all turned to look at the living room.

“Stiles has a plan. We don’t know what we’re dealing with here, we’re going to have to listen to him, what he wants us to do.” Scott replied, sounding more mature than Lydia had heard before. The others in the room nodded in agreement. 

“I’m worried about this Elizabeth bitch.” Sam said, “I know Catherine is powerful, don’t get me wrong, but Elizabeth practically possessed Bobby when she wasn’t even in this realm. And Stiles nearly died fighting Catherine. How’s he going to beat Elizabeth?”

“We’ll find a way.” Dean said reassuringly. “We’re not losing Stiles. Not again. Whatever it takes. They don’t get their hands on him again.” 

They all nodded quickly in agreement, there was no way they were letting any witch ever get their hands anywhere near Stiles again.

“It’s still hard to think we’re going to kill them though.” Scott said quietly, earning a few glares, “Hey,” He said holding his hands up in defence. “I’m not saying don’t do it, of course I understand we have to kill them. It’s just we haven’t had to do it before. We’ve always found a way around killing.” 

“Wrong Scott. You’ve always found a way around killing. But sometimes, monsters have to die. What Catherine did to Stiles, what she still wants to do to him, she deserves to die, and if that’s what it takes to protect Stiles then I’ll do it a thousand times over and still have a clear conscience.” Dean said heatedly, Lydia couldn’t help but nod in agreement, she also couldn’t help but notice the other nods around the room, Derek looked especially keen to kill Catherine and Elizabeth and anyone else who even thought of hurting Stiles.

The rest of the pack stumbled through to the kitchen eventually and a few hours later Stiles dragged himself in, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, not seeming to care that his hair was sticking up in several directions. 

 

Derek couldn’t help but admire Stiles as he walked in to the kitchen, he was gorgeous, even when he’d only just woken up. 

“Morning.” Stiles yawned, stretching his body, his t-shirt riding up slightly. Derek felt himself almost purr in appreciation, he also noticed that Scott was staring at him oddly, his eyes wide in disbelief, as if he’d only just realized how much Derek was attracted to Stiles. He couldn’t believe how oblivious Scott could be sometimes. 

“Erm, yeah, hi Stiles.” Scott said, clearing his throat, tearing his gaze from Derek and finally looking at Stiles. Stiles looked to Scott then, noticing the odd tone in his voice, actually bothering to open his eyes, sudden confusion as to why half the pack was staring at him.

“Have I got something on my face?” Stiles said, going over to the sink and splashing his face with cold water. Derek tried not to look at him bent over the sink. It didn’t work. He knew Scott was still looking at him, but he pretended not to notice and scooted to sit down at a seat, glaring at the table and determined not to look at Stiles again until he could get his hormones under control.

Stiles stood up, more colour to his face now that he had splashed it with cold water. He grabbed a piece of toast and bacon and started eating it, apparently waiting for normal conversation to return. 

“So, we were wondering about the plan?” Malia said without hesitation. 

“Oh, yeah, sure, course.” Stiles said, brushing crumbs from his palms and pulling up a chair around the table. He waved his hand and suddenly a holographic map of the forest appeared hovering over the table and the whole pack gasped in shock, unable to believe the casual display of power. “Okay, so here.” Stiles pointed, pinching his fingers slightly and zooming in on the map so they could all see where he meant. “This is going to be the best place to fight them, I think. I’ve put a protective circle around us, they’ll have to break it to get in. Of course, they’ll break it pretty easily, but as soon as they do, I’ll know, which means I have a bit of warning.” He paused, seemingly getting distracted looking at the map. Noah cleared his throat and Stiles looked around the table, “Yeah, right, sorry, so the clearing. It’s where I’m going to get our best shot. The best plan is to split them up, the way the trees divide this clearing up means that should be fairly easy. I think if I set up some kind of trap or something to keep Catherine busy while I get rid of Elizabeth, because she’s going to be the bigger threat. Like, if I don’t manage to kill them both, if I only get the chance to kill one of them, I want to make sure I’ve kept the threat to a minimum, I mean, you guys can’t beat her, but, if you can find someone, a druid maybe, they should be able to keep you hidden from her. And, well, maybe I’ll be able to kill them both, or at least keep them trapped in their realm for a while. So, yeah, that’s the plan.” Stiles rambled, there was silence around the table as they stared at Stiles in shock.

“That’s the plan?” Jason asked quietly.

“I know. It’s shit. But there aren’t any other options.” Stiles replied quietly, he took in the nervous faces around the table. 

“And what exactly do you expect us to be doing during this?” Dean asked with an arched eyebrow. 

“Well, obviously, you know, this is a little out of your league, and, asking you to fight, well, the protection charm should keep you safe from their magic, but, it doesn’t mean they can’t kill you with their bare hands. There’s no point in you being there.” Stiles shrugged. 

“What the hell! You honestly think we’re going to be anywhere else?” Erica snapped. 

“Look, I get you’re annoyed, but, I don’t want anyone to get hurt if I can help it. I’m not asking you to fight. They’re coming. Whether any of us like it or not. I’m fighting them. I can’t outrun them. They won’t let me outrun them. Maybe you guys can. I want to give you the best chance you can to live. I wouldn’t blame you if you ran, hell, I want you to run. Don’t look back. Maybe they won’t bother coming after you. I’ll try and keep them away from you.”

“No.” Allison shouted, startling the pack as she slammed her hand down on the table. “That isn’t an option. Not for me any way. I’m fighting. I’d rather die today than spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder and knowing I left my friend to those monsters.” There was silence around the table. Heads nodding in agreement.

“I don’t think that we should run.” Jason said after a moment. “I just wish we had a better defence. I’m with Stiles, I don’t want to see any of you guys get hurt, but I agree with Allison, I would rather die today than spend the rest of my days looking over my shoulder, waiting for those crazy bitches to take us down.” 

“Like I said, the protective charms should mean that they can’t use magic on you, and I’ve placed a few more around the clearing. It should mean that if you stay in the clearing, they shouldn’t be able to control you, they shouldn’t be able to use any magic on you. It should put them on the back foot, instead of using magic to attack they’ll have to use it to defend, they haven’t had to do it in a long time. We could have a chance of beating them.” Stiles assured them.

“Okay, so what do we need to know about how to fight them?” Derek asked.

“You’re sure about this?” Stiles asked uncertainly. 

“We’re not leaving you Stilinski. Get it in your thick skull. Now, tell us how to fight them.” Jackson said and Stiles stared at him in amazement before rolling his eyes and clearing his throat.

“Okay. Well, don’t go for the direct attack. They’ll expect that. Don’t look them in the eyes, they can mesmerize you. My charm won’t hold up against that. Don’t do it. Other than that, go for the kill. Don’t show any mercy. They won’t show you any.” Stiles informed them. “Lyds, you should be able to use your scream, knock her over, keep her off balance, she’s not as fast as the wolves, you should be able to take her out, or at least keep her occupied. Other than that, do what you usually do.” 

Malia cleared her throat, “You should tell them about the other thing, just in case it’s an issue.” She said looking at Stiles carefully. Derek and the rest of the pack looked to him in confusion, he hung his head almost shamefully, choosing to look at the table instead. 

“Yeah. I know.” He replied to Malia, his voice quiet, Derek knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that he didn’t want to hear what was coming. “Catherine can change her face.”

“We know. We saw her.” Boyd said, his voice still confused as to how this was a big reveal. 

“Yeah. You did. But she can change it to anything, to look like anyone. If any of you lose sight of her for a second, she’ll use that fact to confuse you, she could look like any one of you. She’s had plenty of practice.” 

“What?” Derek asked stunned. “What the hell do you mean she’s had plenty of practice looking like us?” Not caring that half the table flinched from the anger in his voice. Stiles shifted uncomfortably on his seat, still not looking at any of them.

“It was one of her favourite things.” Stiles replied after a minute of silence. “She enjoyed wearing your faces when she,” He paused, evidently struggling to get the words out and Derek felt his heart shattering, he knew what Stiles was about to say, he didn’t want to know, he didn’t want to hear it laid bare, with no chance of denying it. “When she tortured me.” Stiles finished quietly.

 

There was silence in the kitchen as they processed Stiles words. Noah felt like he couldn’t breathe, the knowledge that his son had been tortured had been hard enough, to know that Catherine had tortured him while she wore their faces, the thought made him sick, he thought he was going to be sick, the whole room was spinning around him. He couldn’t breathe.

“Dad.” Stiles said, Noah wasn’t sure how many times Stiles had said that already, Noah had lost time, Stiles was in front of him now, not sat down at the table where he should have been. Stiles had his hands resting on Noah’s shoulders as if to keep him steady. Tears were spilling down Noah’s cheeks and he couldn’t stop them, all he could imagine was his son screaming in agony and his hands were the ones causing it. How could Stiles even bare to look at them? How could he be around them? He couldn’t believe how brave and strong his son was. He had noticed it before of course, but never like this, never realized just how deep that strength ran. 

“Dad, it’s okay.” Stiles said, his voice seeming to come from far away. Noah eventually got his breathing back under control, he managed to look up at Stiles, he could see the worry on his face. Noah pulled him close and held onto him for dear life. 

“I’m sorry Stiles. I’m so sorry.” Noah sobbed.

“It’s not your fault dad. I promise you. It’s not.” Stiles said, holding tightly onto his dad and wishing he’d never had to confess Catherine’s worst technique.

“How can you face us? After all that, how can you look at us and not see her?” Noah whispered and Stiles sighed heavily.

“Most of the time I’m fine. She could never get your voices right. It’s easy when I’m properly awake. I can tell the difference. But when I just wake up, when I’ve been,” He paused gathering himself, “when I’ve been dreaming about her, it’s easy to get confused. That’s why Malia talked to me yesterday, she knew I needed to hear her voice. If I can hear you talking, it’s really easy to tell the difference.” Stiles said, feeling relieved as Noah relaxed slightly.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with all this Stiles, and I’m going to kill that bitch.” Noah growled angrily.

“You’ll have to get in line.” Sam said loud enough for the whole table to hear. “Neither of them are leaving here alive.” He said his eyes flashing blue with anger as he struggled to control his wolf for a brief moment. Stiles let out a half laugh, half sob and Noah clung tighter to him. 

“Thanks guys.” Stiles said, a small smile on his lips. “Just remember, don’t let her out of your sight.” He added as a warning.

They spent the rest of the morning planning, Stiles alternating between shoving more food into his mouth to increase his energy levels and trying to improve the plan so that they had as much of an advantage as possible. In the early afternoon Stiles excused himself from the kitchen and Noah followed him outside.

“Where are you going?” Noah asked curiously as his son took a few steps to the edge of the woods.

“I need to power up a bit.” Stiles said grimly obviously recognising the confusion on his father’s face as he continued, “I can draw energy from the things surrounding me. It gives me a power boost. If we’ve got any chance of defeating them then I need as much power as I can get, which means I need to sit down here and get a bit of energy together.” Stiles said as he sunk slowly to the floor.

“Could you take it from me? Would that help?” Noah asked, wanting to help his son in any way possible, Stiles turned to look at him quickly with shock in his eyes.

“No. Never.” Stiles said quickly. “It’s very easy to go too far, I could kill you if I did that. No. Don’t ever suggest it again. I won’t take energy from anyone who is alive.” He ordered and Noah gritted his teeth before nodding, he knew Stiles was right in what he was saying, but, the thought that he was once again helpless, it made him so angry, he just wanted to help, in any way he could. 

“Stiles. If it comes to it, if you need it, you can take it. I don’t care if it kills me. So long as it means you’re safe.” Noah said sitting down next to his son, Stiles looked at him with tears in his eyes.

“No dad. The only reason I’m still alive is because I had to protect you guys. If I killed you…dad, I couldn’t…I couldn’t handle it, okay? I just can’t. I can’t think of losing you. Losing any of you. It can’t happen.” Stiles said, his voice cracking slightly.

“Okay.” Noah rested a hand on Stiles’ shoulder as they both sat on the ground, “Okay son. It’s fine. I understand. But I wish I could help you. I wish I didn’t feel so useless.” Stiles grinned at him, leaning in to his side and knocking their shoulders together.

“You’re not useless dad, you never have been, and you never will be. It’s just today, we’re going to be playing to my strengths instead of the packs.” Stiles grinned. “Now, if you’re staying with me, you need to be quiet for a minute so I can concentrate.” 

“That’s the first time you’ve ever told me to be quiet, usually you’re the one making all the noise.” Noah snorted and Stiles grinned at him, giving him a quick wink before closing his eyes and settling in place, concentrating on something that Noah couldn’t see or feel.

Noah sat with him, not willing to move and accidentally disrupt whatever Stiles was doing. Instead, Noah decided to do something that he hasn’t done in years. He decides to pray. He prays to whatever is out there to watch out for his son, he asked Claudia to look after them, after Stiles, after him, after their pack, their family. Noah forces himself to believe with everything he has that this is going to be enough, that they are all going to come out of this unscathed. That he is going to get to watch Stiles grow up, marry the girl, or boy, of his dreams, that he’s going to see his grandkids running around his feet with their father’s hyperactive attitude that drives them all crazy sometimes. He didn’t know how long he sat there with his eyes closed, feeling the warmth of Stiles next to him, until he heard Stiles clearing his throat and Noah turned to look at him.

His son was staring at him with amusement, there was colour in Stiles’ cheeks, his eyes were almost glowing, he looked every bit the mischievous kid that Noah remembers, Stiles’ hair was windswept, his whole body almost seeming to pulse with energy. It was only as Noah looked closer that he realised that Stiles’ skin was literally pulsing, the tattoos appearing and then fading slowly, glowing against his pale flesh in multiple colours, a rainbow across his skin. Noah couldn’t help but to reach out and trace one of them, Stiles only grinned at him in return.

“How are you doing that?” Noah asked turning to Stiles.

“I’m not really sure.” Stiles said, after a few moments he finally gets control of the tattoos and they disappear completely, his skin now pale and unmarked. “I think it’s a bit of a power high. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so powerful.” Stiles said excitedly, his cheeks flushed. Noah studied his son again, Stiles might have gotten his tattoos to vanish but instead his skin was glowing, literally glowing, not massively obviously, but enough so that Stiles looked healthier than Noah had ever seen him, a grin on his face that he couldn’t seem to control either. 

“So you feel okay?” Noah asked, feeling more than a little nervous that Stiles might spontaneously combust.

“Yeah. I feel good. Still nervous of course, and a little worried it’s all going to go to hell, but generally, other than the fact witches are trying to kill us, I feel good.” Stiles rambled, a grin on his face. 

They headed back towards the house, Stiles almost fell face first when he tripped over a root, but luckily Noah caught him by the arm and held him upright. It was nice to know his son was still in there, he was just a little less fragile than he had been, but no less clumsy.

They strolled through the door and across the hallway into the living room. The rest of the pack were scattered around the house, none of them willing to go any distance because they knew that Catherine and Elizabeth would be here soon. Peter and Liam were sat on one of the sofas, listening to Sam as he told them about a hunt they’d been on when they were younger, Stiles smiled fondly as he listened to the story before excusing himself to the kitchen. 

He came back a minute later clutching a piece of paper in his hand, Stiles saw his dad look at the paper and winked at him before disappearing through the door and through to the rest of the house.

Noah sat down opposite Bobby who was cleaning one of his guns and Noah watched the man. It was odd that a month ago he had never met Bobby, and yet now there was a strong friendship between them. Maybe it was because they were both father’s trying to protect their sons. Maybe it was because Bobby had seen more evil in this world than Noah ever had and recognized that the pack wasn’t evil. Maybe it was because Bobby had a sharp wit and took no shit from anyone and Noah respected that. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he did know that they were friends. He wanted to tell Bobby how thankful he was for all his help, but he didn’t want it to sound like a goodbye. He knew that most of the pack must have been thinking the same thing. That today they would fight, and some of them might not come back. Noah felt sick at that thought, but it was the truth all the same. 

He was afraid. No, he was terrified. He would rather die than have to live through losing any of the pack. He hoped that they would live, but the odds were against them, and he’d rather it was him than Stiles, than Sam or Dean or Scott, or any of the pack. They were his family. He’d die to protect them if he had to.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Bobby said from across the table and Noah shrugged knowing that most of the pack would be listening in.

“Just thinking about later. About what we could lose.” Noah said briefly, Bobby raised his eyebrow in question.

“You know dad and I,” Allison began, “We do this thing, when we are going into battle, we always make sure that everyone we care about, they know how we feel. So there’s no distractions in battle, that if the worst happened, if one of us doesn’t make it, the important people know how we feel.” Allison said and Bobby snorted.

“Well I’ve got to say Allison, no offence, but, that’s a load of bollocks for me. If the people are important to me, they already know how I feel. I don’t need to go getting or gloomy over something that might happen. I’d rather go in knowing I was going to beat the bitch with my family at my side.” Bobby said, his voice turning kind as he finished, obviously not wanting to upset her, and Allison shrugged. 

“Each to their own.” Allison replied friendly and Bobby smiled at her.

There was silence for a split second before Noah heard the sound of shattering glass, the sound of someone falling and then Derek calling out to Stiles. He rushed to the noise, Stiles was kneeling on the ground of the hallway between the kitchen and one of the games rooms. His skin was ashen, his hands trembling. Most of the pack were already there, surrounding Stiles, Noah pushed forward, locking eyes with his son.

“They’re here.” Stiles whispered into the silence.

 

Derek was in one of the back rooms talking to Scott. He’d cornered him and Dean a little while earlier and was talking to him about the different fight plans they could put in place, all Derek could think about was that Stiles was outside and he should be going to talk to him. 

“So, you think we could split up and maybe divert Catherine over here?” Dean said, putting to a point in the clearing. 

“It’s possible, but, if we did it, we’d be able to surround her, attack her from all sides.” Derek input.

“But, that would thin us out, if she broke through and tried to make it back to Elizabeth, she could do it.” Scott said. 

“And if she makes it back to Elizabeth then Stiles doesn’t stand a chance.” Derek said and Scott rolled his eyes fondly. 

“You know, Stiles is my best friend.” Scott muttered. “If you’re going to mess him around…” Scott warned and Derek raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“What? Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to mess him around, I love him and I’m not going to leave.” Derek said quietly.

“And if he doesn’t love you back? Things have changed Derek, he’s changed. He might not feel the way he did back then.” Scott advised and Derek grimaced, he hadn’t thought of that and he felt nauseous at the very thought that Stiles didn’t feel the same way. He knew it wouldn’t change the way he felt, but, he also knew he’d struggle to see Stiles with someone else.

“If that’s the case, then, okay.” Derek said after a moment of silence, “I don’t need him to love me back for me to love him. I will always love him, I will always care about him, but he’s not the only reason I’m here. I’m here for my pack Scott. I’m not leaving. And, if Stiles doesn’t love me back, then I’ll manage. I’ll cope.”

“Well, we’ll be here, either way.” Dean commented and Derek gave him a grateful smile. 

“Thanks.” Derek said and Scott rolled his eyes in amusement. 

“Can we get back to the topic at hand?” Scott said and Dean and Derek both nodded, “Right, so…”

“Knock, knock.” Stiles called out, knocking on the door as he stepped into the room. “Not interrupting anything am I?” He said casually. 

All three of them shook their heads, Derek stared at Stiles, he looked good, he had a glow about him, his eyes were lit up with a million emotions and he looked ready to fight. Derek smiled, unable to stop himself, he loved him, god, he loved him so much.

“Can I talk to you Der?” Stiles said motioning to the hallway. Derek nodded quickly, sure that he was still shell shocked at the sight of Stiles, Stiles grinned quickly at Scott and Dean and Derek felt his heart skip a beat, he’d missed that smile.

Derek stepped into the hallway and Stiles shut the door behind him, Derek noticed the piece of paper in Stiles’ fingers and he was about to ask but Stiles what it was about but Stiles held up a hand to tell him to wait. 

“I know the rest of the wolves are all still listening in, so I’ll make it quick.” Stiles said to him, his voice serious, he was pretty sure he wasn’t about to declare his undying love to him. He held out the paper. “Don’t read it. Not yet. You’ll know if the time comes.” 

“Well that’s not at all mysterious.” Derek said sullenly and Stiles grinned at him.

“A man has to have some mystery, right?” He teased and Derek shook his head with bemusement. 

“I guess.” Derek replied, tucking it into his back pocket, his mind already trying to figure out what it would say. “How am I going to know if the time comes?” He asked.

“Trust me. It’ll be pretty obvious.” Stiles smiled, hesitating for a second before looking up to meet Derek’s gaze, “So, um, well, I’m pretty sure that there’s a better time for big declarations of feelings, and, I’m also fairly certain that most of them don’t involve telling the person you are in love with that they annoy you, but…Derek…you…you absolutely are the only person in the world that drives me insane, you’re so stubborn and argumentative and you always have to think you know the best thing and you never listen to me, but, well, you are also amazing and incredible and I love that you have the biggest heart and you care about everyone so much, like, god, you just, you amaze me at every opportunity and I love you. I love you. So, yeah, I don’t know how things are going to go today, I don’t know if we’re both still going to be alive this time tomorrow, and I did think maybe it was better not to say anything, because I don’t want you to lose anyone else you care about, but, then I realised, you love me, me not telling you I love you too, it won’t stop you loving me. So, by not telling you, all it would be, is you not knowing that you mean the world to me. And, I don’t want you to ever doubt that, so, well, I love you. I love you a lot. And, if we both make it through this, would you like to maybe go on a date?” Stiles rambled nervously. 

“Yeah, yes, definitely!” Derek said excitedly, almost bouncing in place, he couldn’t believe this, Stiles loved him back. 

“Great, great, that’s um, that’s great.” Stiles grinned happily, “And, well, um, yeah, that’s, I’m super pumped about that, I mean, assuming we don’t both die today.” He said, crossing his fingers as Derek snorted with laughter. 

“Yeah, assuming that, then, yeah, let’s date.” He beamed, he couldn’t believe that they were going to do this, “Just in case it doesn’t go that way.” Derek said, taking a step forward, leaning in towards Stiles, “Could I…can I…um, I’d really like to hug you.” 

“Just a hug?” Stiles mocked and Derek rolled his eyes, pulling him in to a hug tightly, holding him as he had wanted to for so long. Stiles’ arms wrapped around him and they held each other tightly. Derek opened his mouth to tell Stiles how much this meant to him when suddenly Stiles tensed in his arms, his hands instinctively going to his head, gripping it tightly, as if it was about to explode, as the mirror next to them shattered and Stiles went lax in his grip, he would have gone to his knees if Derek hadn’t been holding him. His skin had gone almost grey in colour, it was evident he was in a lot of pain. 

“Stiles!” Derek cried out in panic, falling to the ground as he kept hold of Stiles, holding onto his arms tightly, letting him know that he was here. When Stiles opened his eyes a moment later, Derek knew instantly what he was about to say. It made his chest tighten in fear.

“They’re here.” Stiles whispered to the pack surrounding them.

 

Scott looked at his friend who was slowly gathering himself from the floor, a hand resting on Derek’s arm as he stood up. 

“You okay?” Scott asked, unable to comprehend the difference he saw in Stiles. A few minutes ago he’d looked full of energy and life, now he looked drawn out and pale. Stiles nodded his head in reply, but he still looked shaken.

“I’m fine. If we’re doing this, as in, you guys coming with me, then, we need to get to the clearing and get in position.” Stiles said pushing through the pack towards the nearest door. Scott followed him and the pack came behind, all of them looking determined. The fight was now. This would all end today. He would protect his pack, his family, with everything he had. 

They walked quickly through the preserve, Stiles leading the way with his eyes closed, his face tight in concentration as his skin slowly started to regain the unearthly glow that it had had previously. They went a few hundred feet before Stiles held up his hand, signalling for them to stay still, as he crept another few steps forward silently.

“Come out Spark! I can tell you are near.” A voice shouted, startling Scott. He knew this must be Elizabeth. Stiles glanced back at them, looking at them like this could be their final farewell, Scott tried not to think like that, he had to believe that they were all going to make this out in one piece, it was the only way he was going to be able to concentrate on what he needed to do and not worry about his pack. Stiles motioned for them to stay put, that they would attack Catherine the minute he had separated them, and then Stiles was stepping through the last few trees and entering the clearing.

 

Stiles’ heart was pounding, his hands were sweaty, he felt like he could throw up any second. But then he thought of his pack and he knew he could do this, he had to do this. He stepped into the clearing and felt like screaming in despair. Catherine was there and so was Elizabeth, but there were also several of Elizabeth’s pets, all frothing at the mouth and begging for the taste of blood. He hadn’t accounted for that. He thought Elizabeth would be too proud to bring her pets with her, surely she didn’t need them to defeat him? 

“Elizabeth. Can’t say it’s nice to see you again. Catherine. Never a pleasure.” Stiles said in greeting, smirking at them mockingly. “And, of course, how lovely, you’ve brought pets. I didn’t realize that I was so powerful that you needed to bring them along to defeat me.” He said, hoping that the pack would hear and know that the plan had gone to hell already. He could only pray that they had some common sense and were already running in the opposite direction.

“Oh, they aren’t for you spark. They’re here to tear your pack apart as you watch.” Elizabeth said gleefully. “You might have made it so that I can’t hurt them, but that doesn’t mean my pets can’t. I’ll enjoy watching each of them have their throats torn out, it is only justice you see, revenge for my dear departed sister.” Elizabeth cooed. “Of course, Spark, I’ll spare you. You will become my new pet and I’m sure nothing will break you sooner than watching me slaughter them all.” 

Stiles hated the joy in her voice in that statement, he hated that she was planning to slaughter them all and leave him alive. It would be a slaughter now, he saw that, there was no way he could take out both witches and their pets. He’d led his pack to their deaths. He should have told them to run. He forced his breathing to calm down, if he had a panic attack now then he wouldn’t help anyone. He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see the whole pack coming into the clearing. 

“You’re not getting your hands on him.” Scott growled protectively. “We’ll kill you all before you touch him.” Stiles grinned at Scott, his best friend, he couldn’t believe he’d ever doubted him, sure Scott had let him down sometimes, but Scott was his brother. His heart felt like it doubled in size as he looked at his pack, every one of them were family to him, he was going to protect them, no matter what. 

He turned back to look at Catherine and Elizabeth, ready to tackle them head on, he couldn’t help but gasp in shock at the scene he was witnessing, hearing the echoes of other pack members as they saw what was happening too. Elizabeth realized a moment too late that the threat wasn’t in front of her, it was behind, that was all it took for Catherine to sink her blade into Elizabeth’s back and deep in to her heart. There was a look of disbelief frozen on Elizabeth’s features as she fell to the ground. Catherine smirked at the dead witch on the ground, licking the blood from the blade as wind began to whip through the clearing. 

“You killed her?” Stiles asked stunned. He’d seen witches kill each other before, of course he had, but never so calmly, so viciously. 

“Of course I did.” Catherine replied, her face already starting to shift. “How else would I get her power and her pets?” She said as her face settled, and Stiles was staring at the face of his mother. 

There were a few muffled gasps from behind him, he imagined how hard it would be for his dad to see his wife again, but he wasn’t surprised, he’d seen the face a thousand times before, and he knew it wasn’t her. Not really. 

“Attack!” Catherine ordered and then the pets were coming at them, the whole pack, seven of them descending on them too quickly. Lydia screamed throwing three of them backwards to the ground and then all hell broke loose, all the pack charging at them, slashing with claws that narrowly missed the pets, shots ringing out that hit their targets but didn’t even see to slow them down. But all Stiles could see was Catherine, staying out of the fight, waiting for him to come to her. 

Stiles charged through one fight, knocking a pet backwards with a flick of his fingers, earning a shout of appreciation from Frank who had nearly been gutted. He was already throwing magic at Catherine before he’d cleared the last of the fighters, hoping to catch her by surprise but he didn’t. 

He threw spell after spell at her, narrowly avoiding the ones she cast back. The noises behind him disappeared, the wind that spun around them was all he could hear, the rush in his ears as he used all the magic he had stored up in the walk over here.

The clearing was lit up in a multitude of colours as spells burned the ground at his feet. He didn’t know how much time had passed before he realized he wasn’t going to win, Catherine was too powerful, with the addition of Elizabeth’s powers, there was no way he was going to beat her. He had to do something soon or there would be no hope. She was taunting him, still wearing his mother’s face as she cast curses at him. He was going to fail, there was no chance he was making it out of this alive; he had to save the pack. He heard a shout of pain and turned to look at his pack, Derek was down on the ground, blood pooling around him from where claws had torn open his stomach and Stiles felt his heart skip a beat, he couldn’t lose Derek, he couldn’t watch him die. He reacted on instinct, knowing now that the only way to beat her would be his last resort. He felt for the pack through his protective charm and then pushed them all backwards into the trees out of the clearing then he used his magic to seal the circle of mountain ash he’d put down the night before, keeping them out of the clearing. 

He knew they would be able to break it, but not quick enough. He dropped every protective spell he had on himself, allowing his tattoos to become visible and he heard Catherine gasp in shock.

“You didn’t!?” She screamed in horror as she recognised the tattoos on Stiles’ body, reaching out and scrabbling to pull her pets towards her in a feeble attempt at protection. 

Stiles didn’t reply, instead he just concentrated on the one thing he knew he had to do, protect his pack, the only way he had left. He’d made sure that the protective charm was filled with his blood because his pack would be safe as long as they had his blood protecting them, but those without his blood would be struck down, and he was going to be the conductor. 

He threw one hand up towards the sky and the other at Catherine, immediately a bolt of lightning struck his outstretched hand and blasted through his body and then outwards. Stiles only had a moment to feel the burning hot agony and the smell of burning flesh before he lost all consciousness.

 

Dean was fighting dangerously against the pets that were trying to tear his family apart, their claws were missing him by millimetres. He had a gash on his cheek that was healing slowly, and he could smell the blood from others of the pack. They were losing. He could smell the ozone coming from where Stiles was fighting against Catherine, smoke coming from the ground where their spells hit, missing their targets. He could tell Stiles was losing too. He knew the second that Elizabeth had appeared with the pets that they stood no chance. He had failed to protect his pack. He couldn’t stop this. They were all going to die.

He looked around for his brother, knowing that if he was going to die then it was going to be fighting by his brother’s side, the way it should be. He stepped forward, dodging one set of claws, putting his back against Sam, protecting his brother as best he could for as long as he could. He saw Derek go down a moment later, heard the cry of pain, saw the blood already pooling under him. Dean took a step towards Derek, wanting to be there for his friend, not wanting to leave his brother defenceless. But before he could make a decision, he was been shoved backwards by an invisible force, he knew it was Stiles, the touch of magic felt like comfort and home, he felt safe despite the fact he was moving against his will, and he also knew something awful was about to happen. By the time he had stood up lightening was flying down from the sky and Lydia was screaming. 

 

Derek couldn’t help the cry of pain as the claws tore through his stomach. He knew they were going to lose, the fighting had become desperate in the past few minutes, the clearing was filled with the smell of magic, smoke coming from the ground, vicious claws trying to tear them apart. He stood with Lydia to his back, hearing the banshee scream over and over, knocking the pets down as often as she could. He wasn’t sure how he’d ended up fighting with her as his partner, but he couldn’t wish for a better person to die beside, other than Stiles of course, but, that wasn’t an option. Lydia fought like a woman possessed, not only protecting him but protecting them all, managing to keep the pets at enough of a distance that none of the pack were injured yet. Derek knew it was only a matter of time.

He kept getting distracted, he knew that it was going to cost him dearly, but he couldn’t help but keep glancing over to where Stiles was fighting Catherine, check that he was still okay, still fighting. And, when he wasn’t looking for Stiles, he was checking on the rest of the pack, he’d already lost one pack, he couldn’t lose another. The whole pack were depending on Stiles beating Catherine and it didn’t sound like that fight was going in their favour either. Derek turned a moment too late and the claws tore through his stomach. He cried out in pain, almost landing on Lydia as he fell, he could smell his own blood, he knew he was done for and all he could think was that he hoped Stiles still beat her, that it might be too late for him, but, he wanted Stiles to live, wanted his pack to live. 

He felt himself being pushed backwards towards the trees, but it was a gentle motion and Derek knew instantly it was Stiles, the touch of his magic was comforting, a solid presence, what was more is that Derek could feel his skin knitting back together. He knew that Stiles was going to do something stupid, there was no other reason why he would spare magic to heal Derek. He sat up, ready to fight again, ready to stop Stiles, protect him for as long as he could, but by the time he focused on Stiles it was too late, the smell of burning flesh hit his nostrils and Stiles was on fire.

 

Noah wasn’t sure how they were still fighting, he was stood near the back of the fight along with Bobby and Melissa. He took a few shots but only when he was sure that they would hit their targets. So far, the pets had been kept busy and hadn’t managed to break through to them, but he could see the pack were tiring and soon they would lose. He knew they were all going to die here, he knew the pack wouldn’t be able to hold it together much longer and they didn’t stand a chance. He looked at Stiles who was still fighting Catherine, wind was whipping around them, there was blood running down Stiles’ cheek from where a spell had obviously gotten too close. Stiles looked deadly and dangerous, the fact that he was fighting a witch who looked exactly like Claudia made Noah’s heart ache with loss and grief.

He was going to lose his son, his pack, his whole family. He only prayed that Stiles would get away, or that he would die with them. He was an awful person to wish his son dead, but he knew that if they were all killed and Stiles survived, well, Stiles wouldn’t ever recover from it. Catherine would torture him again. He would break and all of Beacon Hills would fall. He didn’t want to die, he didn’t want any of them to die. But he’d rather they all died together than die knowing that his son was trapped with that monster, that he would end up becoming one of these pets that they fought against so valiantly.

Noah saw Derek go down hard and he knew that the end was coming, he knew that Stiles had seen Derek go down from the small cry of denial that he let out, Noah looked at his son, wanting Stiles to be the last thing he saw. He felt something brush against his skin almost delicately, push him back towards the treeline, he knew it was Stiles doing it, he could tell by the soft touch of his magic, knowing that his son was trying to protect them even now. Noah saw the moment when Stiles showed Catherine his tattoos, he stared at the fear on her face, and he knew it must be something awful for her to be afraid, he had no idea why she would be afraid. Stiles was losing, they were all losing. By pushing them backwards just slightly, all Stiles had achieved was to buy them another minute or two before they died. 

Except, Noah could see that Catherine was terrified, pure dread in her features as she tried to shove her pets in front of her as protection. Noah shouted out, knowing Stiles was about to do something dangerous but before he could take more than a step forward lightning was streaming through the sky hitting his son and then blasting through the clearing.

 

Lydia had felt the scream building for the past few minutes, it wasn’t a scream where she used her voice as her power, it was so much worse than that, it was a scream that told her a life was about to end. She knew exactly who’s name was on the tip of her tongue and she wanted to press her lips firmly together, because if she didn’t scream, maybe it wouldn’t come true. Maybe she’d wake up in bed and this would all have been a dream.  
She knew the second she felt the touch of Stiles’ magic that it was over, that there was no way to stop it. She had never felt more loved and protected and she knew that this was Stiles’ last ditch attempt to save them. She met his eyes for just a second as they were pushed backwards, she saw the love and determination that filled his eyes as he looked for Derek, as his gaze went to the one person he loved more than anything else and then there was lightning and everything was too bright but she still screamed, she couldn’t stop it as it was torn from her throat. 

“Stiles!” She screamed, her voice trailing off into a sob.

When she looked at the clearing, she could see the piles of ash where Catherine and her pets had been. They were dead. It was over. But Stiles was…

Scott was already racing towards Stiles’ body, he was burned, so badly burned and she knew he was dead. She knew she’d screamed for his death. She took a few unsteady steps forward, aware of the pack around her doing the same thing, Derek practically crawling towards Stiles’ lifeless body, tears streaming down his face as he sobbed brokenly, crying out for Stiles in denial. 

As she got closer she saw the damage properly, saw the way the lightning had struck Stiles, how his whole arm was burned, how it had raced down his arm, across his collarbone, down his chest and then exploded outwards, burning any skin that was in it’s path, Stiles’ eyes were staring unseeingly at the sky above them and Lydia felt herself breaking.

Lydia listened to the sobs and screams of grief that filled the clearing. Malia was sitting on the floor, her hands around her knees, claws still out as she tried to deal with the fact that Stiles was gone and this time it was for good. Lydia watched as Peter and Cora both reached out to her, trying to comfort her in whatever way they could but she knew that it was useless, she wasn’t sure Malia even knew they were there.

Noah was leaning over his son, holding onto him, begging him to come back to them, Sam was clinging onto his brother as if Dean was the only thing holding him upright, while Dean was standing stoically, his jaw clenched so tightly Lydia was sure he’d split his teeth in half, staring at Stiles with tear filled eyes. Derek was hovering next to Noah, as if afraid to touch Stiles, as if by touching him it would be real. Melissa was holding onto Scott who was sobbing like a child onto Allison’s shoulder. Bobby was standing with Chris, Isaac, Jason, Liam and Frank who all looked shocked, their eyes wide with despair. Miller was stood with Leo, Percy, Erica and Boyd, all of them looking down at Stiles with disbelief, as if unable to comprehend that he was gone. Jackson was standing next to her, tears rolling down his face as he gripped Lydia’s hand tightly. The pack was broken.

Lydia was numb. She couldn’t believe this. They were all supposed to make it out of this or all die together, Stiles wasn’t supposed to die alone. He wasn’t supposed to die at all. Tears fell unknowingly from her eyes, she didn’t realise she was crying until her vision blurred. She felt as Jackson wrapped his arm around her shoulder and held her close. All she could see was Stiles. The boy who ran with wolves. Stiles who fought against witches. Stiles who had loved her like a sister. Stiles who she had loved like a brother. Stiles who was dead.

 

Derek heard Lydia’s scream from next to him, heard her scream Stiles’ name as the smell of burning flesh hit his nostrils and the whole clearing exploded with light and Derek knew, he knew it was too late. That he was too late. 

Still, he pressed a hand against the slowly healing wound and staggered forwards, barely getting his feet underneath him as he stared at Stiles’ body, he couldn’t believe it, couldn’t process it. Stiles was dead. 

“No. No. No. You said…please…please Stiles…no.” Derek sobbed under his breath, he couldn’t breath, it felt like someone was crushing his chest because Stiles was dead. He’d left him. He’d left him all alone in this world and Derek couldn’t go on. He couldn’t’ go on without him. 

He reached out with trembling fingers, resting the palm of his hand against the unburned skin of Stile’s cheek, the skin was cold under his fingers and Derek let out another heartbroken sob. He couldn’t do this, he wouldn’t survive this, even as Noah reached out to try and comfort him, Derek knew it was pointless. Stiles was all he had been able to think about since the moment he’d met him, he was amazing and full of so much life and now he was dead and Derek couldn’t cope, he wasn’t sure he could even remember how to breathe, it hurt too much. 

He was about to shift to his wolf, about to run, run far away, as far away as he could, make sure that he never had to relive this moment again, never be human again, except, just as he was about to start the process, he felt something hot almost burning in his back pocket. He reached for it, puzzled as to what it was, and felt his fingertips brush against paper. He remembered instantly, the paper, the piece of paper that Stiles had given him. This was Stiles, he had a back-up plan, he would have planned for this. He had to have planned for this. Derek pulled the paper out with shaking fingers and unfolded it, not caring that everyone was staring at him as he took in Stiles’ scrawled writing. 

Der, if you’re reading this, then, I’m dead and you’re not. Which is a good thing. That you’re not dead I mean. Not so great that I am. But, I’m hoping we can change that.  
If we can’t, then, I want you to know that I love you with everything I have, and, I’m sorry for leaving you, but, you’ll be okay, you’ll have the pack and you’ll be okay. Tell everyone how much I love them all, tell them goodbye. But, I’m really hoping that isn’t the case. Because I love you. And I want to be with you. With our family. I’m really hoping this isn’t our goodbye Derek, but, if it is, it’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself if this doesn’t work. Sometimes things just don’t work how we plan on them doing. But, you, you have made my life worthwhile. If I don’t make it back, know that I have loved every second I have spent with you and I will wait until we meet again.  
But, fingers crossed, that’s going to be in a minute, or in a hundred years.  
So, you’ve pulled me back before, and, nothing has changed. You’re still my emotional tether Derek. You always will be. Get Lydia to scream so I can hear and hold me tight. Please. 

“What’s it say?” Sam asked, Derek looked past him, instead looking to Lydia. 

“I need you to scream. I need you to scream so that Stiles hears you.” Derek instructed and Lydia nodded numbly, falling to her knees on the other side of Stiles and looking at Derek.

“Stiles!” She called. “Stiles! Wake up! Wake up this instant!” She demanded. “Stilinski! You listen to me right now! You get back here this instant or I am going to scream until your brain explodes okay!?” She shouted, not caring that she looked deranged. Not caring for anything other than bringing Stiles back, and she would, she would sit here until the whole world died around them if that’s what it took.

“Stiles, come on, please, please come back to us. Lydia, I need you to scream, really scream.” Derek said, lifting Stiles from the ground and wrapping him in his arms, “Come on Stiles, please come back.” Derek said as Lydia sucked in a breath and then screamed, she screamed so loudly that Derek was sure his ears were bleeding but he wouldn’t let go of Stiles to protect his hearing, not when it might be the only thing to bring him back. “You told me I could bring you back. Please come back. I love you. I love you Stiles, please come back to me.” 

Nothing happened and Derek felt the tears rolling down his cheeks. 

“Please, please, Stiles, please don’t leave me alone, otherwise we’ll be seeing each other a hell of a lot sooner than you think, because if you don’t’ come back, I’m coming after you. You get that? You come back to me or I’m coming for you. You don’t get to leave me Stiles. No. You don’t. I won’t let you. I love you. You love me. We don’t leave each other. Not ever. So, get back here. Come back to me. Now.” He growled, his eyes flashing their usual blue, clutching Stiles as tightly as he could, his claws protruding from his fingers, his teeth elongating, his wolf taking control because they would not give up on Stiles, they would not quit until they were together. 

 

Stiles was somewhere warm, he wasn’t sure where it was, he couldn’t see anything, it was dark, but it was also warm, he wasn’t scared, he felt safe. When a figure appeared from the darkness nearby it took him a moment to recognize his mom, he knew it was her though, not Catherine’s cheap impersonation. He’d never felt safe with her and he felt so safe now, so warm, and loved and protected and he pulled him mom in to a tight hug.

“Is she dead?” He asked, his mom nodded in reply, tears in her eyes.

“Am I?” Stiles queried, his mom nodded again. “Oh. I guess that’s the way things go.” Stiles said quietly. “I couldn’t expect to get hit by lightning and survive, right?” Claudia rested a hand on his cheek and looked at him with such love that Stiles couldn’t help the tears in his own eyes. 

“If anyone could, it would be you my sweet, brave boy.” She said pulling him into another hug. 

“I’ve missed you mom.” He whispered into her shoulder.

“You’ll have to miss me for a bit longer yet Mischief.” She replied, he could only gaze at her in confusion.

“No, no I don’t. I’m dead. You’re dead. We can spend time together.” He said. 

“No. No we can’t my beautiful boy. I love you. I’m so proud of you. I love you so much Mischief.” Claudia said, and, it sounded almost like a goodbye. Another woman appeared next to his mom and Stiles knew instantly that it had to be his aunt Mary, Sam and Dean’s mother, they looked so similar there was no way they couldn’t be related. 

“Look after my boys for me. Tell them I love them. I’m so proud of them.” Mary said and Stiles was confused, he didn’t understand what was happening, it took him a moment before he heard it, Lydia was screaming, Stiles could hear Derek then, like his mouth was right next to Stiles’ ear, pleading with him to come back, to not leave him, that if he didn’t come back, Derek would be coming after him. 

“Oh.” Stiles said in surprise, he genuinely hadn’t expected it to work like this, “I will do aunt Mary. I promise. I love you mom. I love you.”

“I love you too darling. My little Mischief. I love you. Look after them Stiles.” Claudia called out as she seemed to fade into nothingness in front of his very eyes.

 

“Derek.” Dean muttered in shock and Derek pulled away from Stiles slightly, enough to see that Dean was pointing at Stiles. 

Derek watched with fascination as the burn that covered Stiles’ skin began to fade, to heal, until nothing was left but a lichtenberg scar that ran from his fingers up his arm, across his collar bone and down his chest until it reached his hip. Derek barely had time to process the fact that Stiles’ tattoos had someone miraculously grown over the scar before Stiles’ heart thudded into rhythm and Stiles was staring up at him through rapidly blinking eyes.

“Mom?” Stiles whispered so quietly that Derek almost missed it. 

“Stiles, oh, god, Stiles, you’re alive. You’re okay.” Derek said, pulling him into a tight hug as Stiles blinked a few more times, evidently trying to take in his surroundings.

“Geez Lyds, I can hear you okay, stop screaming.” Stiles muttered so casually, as if he hadn’t just been dead and Derek clung to him a little tighter, because Stiles was alive and everything was going to be okay. He kissed Stiles before he really knew what he was doing, he was just so relieved, so grateful that Stiles was back, that he was okay, that his heart beating. Stiles’ lips felt soft against his own and Derek pressed a little harder, as Stiles returned his kiss, obviously happy with this sudden turn of events, his hand reaching up and cupping Derek’s neck gently and Derek grinned, finally breaking the kiss when Noah cleared his throat from next to them. 

“Don’t you dare ever do that to me again.” Derek growled and Stiles nodded at him a little dumbly, reaching up to touch his lips as if he wasn’t sure that they had just kissed.

“Um, sure, yeah. I promise. No dying again.” Stiles said as Noah pushed past Derek to give Stiles a hug, the rest of the pack crowding around them, hugging Stiles and each other gratefully, thankfully, as they processed the fact that Stiles was alive and the danger was over. Stiles kept a tight grip on Derek’s hand and Derek grinned at him, he wasn’t sure he had ever been so happy. 

 

The pack were all gathered around Stiles, hugging him, touching him, yelling at him for being so stupid in the first place. It felt like it was finally over and, when he caught sight of the piles of ash, he knew it was definitely over, they were dead.

Stiles figured he should probably be concerned about the power of Catherine’s magic, who had stolen Elizabeth’s and several other witches magic, that he could feel tingling through his veins, he guessed he had technically killed her which meant he got her powers. 

In a way he was grateful, he would have enough power to always protect his family now. It just meant that he now had the powers of Margaret who was his own kill, Catherine, Elizabeth and a few other witches magic running through him. Although, he was relieved that the powers were glowing happily inside of him, he could feel them like a physical thing, and they didn’t feel like the witches, they felt like pure energy and he felt protective of them too. He would use them to protect his pack with everything he had.

“How did you know it would work?” Scott was asking him as he climbed slowly to his feet, leaning on Derek as he did.

“Well, I didn’t actually. I kind of just hoped it would. And when I put the protective charm on you guys, I added in a little of my blood. It means I sort of feel all of you a little easier. When I heard Lydia screaming, and then Derek calling to me, I was talking to…mom was there…and then she vanished…and everything sort of….I don’t know…and, well, then, I was here.” Stiles muttered.

“How sure were you that it was going to work?” Derek was glaring at him, his eyes flashing and Stiles froze. 

“Der, what…your eyes?” Stiles said, he didn’t see Derek’s usual green, or the electric blue of his wolf. Instead he was looking at eyes that were almost red in colour, but, laced with specks of gold and they were so beautiful that Stiles couldn’t help but stare. 

“What about them?” Derek asked in confusion. 

“They’re…gorgeous.” Stiles said. 

“Right, okay then?” Derek said puzzled. 

“No, I mean, hang on, crap, I can’t take a photo. Stupid glare thing, but, they’re…not blue. They’re sort of red, but, not Alpha red, and, they’ve got gold in them, lots of flecks of gold, and, god, they are so beautiful.” Stiles rambled and Derek stared at him before his eyes faded back to their standard green. “Still beautiful.” 

“Don’t try and get out of this Stiles, whatever is going on with my eyes, we’ll deal with that later. How sure were you that it was going to work?” Derek pressed. 

“Um, maybe like, twenty percent chance. But the important thing is, it did. So, you know, no harm no foul.” 

“Stiles. I swear to god. If you ever pull anything like this again, I’ll kill you myself.” Derek warned him, the joy at having him back contradicting the anger in his tone. 

“Sure thing Der.” Stiles replied, feeling more like himself than he had done in years. He was surprised when Derek threw an arm around his shoulder and pulled Stiles close to him, Stiles looked up at him before resting a hand on Derek’s waist almost uncertainly, Derek grinned at him and Stiles’ eyes flashed briefly, it was enough to still Derek in his tracks, they too were flashing red with flecks of gold and he gaped at Stiles in shock. “What?” 

“Your eyes?” 

“What? Mine too?” Stiles asked, allowing his eyes to shift again so that the entire pack could see them and nod in amazement. 

“Woah! Wait! I read about something like this!” Cora muttered and the entire pack looked to her, “When I stayed with the other pack, when I thought you were all dead, they, there was a book there, like, sort of like a bestiary I guess, of all the different things they’ve encountered, but, I mean, it’s centuries old, like, I’m sure that Sampson said it was something like eight hundred years old.”

“And? What did you read?” Stiles asked. 

“Well, there was this thing, it spoke about two people, like, as far as I know it’s the only recorded occurrence of it happening, but, it said that these two, they like, ‘pulled each other from the brink’ which I sort of thought meant they pulled each other back from the brink of death maybe? Or maybe from the other side?” 

“I didn’t do anything for Derek? Like, he may have pulled me back, but, I didn’t do anything for him?” 

“Are you kidding me? If you stayed dead, I was coming straight after you Stiles. I wouldn’t have wanted to be here without you.” Derek said and Stiles looked at him with wonder. 

“I wouldn’t have wanted you to do that. Derek, if I die, you are not going to come after me. You’re going to live a long and happy life and die as an old man in your bed surrounded by family, okay? You don’t get to die. Okay? Please?” 

“Are you saying you wouldn’t do the same thing?” Derek said with a raised eyebrow. 

“Of course not, I’d come up with a better plan first…” 

“You literally just used magic to conduct lightning to save all of us on the off chance that I might be able to bring you back, if the roles had been reversed?” Derek said and Stiles rolled his eyes. 

“Well, obviously, I would have never let you do something so ridiculous in the first place.” He grinned and Derek shook his head fondly. 

“Anyway, can we get back to the crap about your eyes?” Erica said. 

“Right, yeah, so, whoever wrote the entry, they basically believed it was because they’d brought each other back from the brink, but, also, they kind of bound themselves to each other, so, they were an Alpha to each other, like, they were still members of a pack, but, they were a pack within a pack, and, if they disagreed with the Alpha, so long as their mate agreed with them, they would just choose not to follow the order, they’d do what they wanted, so long as they both agreed.” Cora explained. 

“And that’s different to what the two of them usually do how?” Scott asked and everyone laughed loudly.

“Other than the agreeing bit? Do you guys ever agree on anything?” Jackson commented and Stiles sighed heavily.

“Of course we do, just, not when it puts the other one at risk, right?” Derek nodded in agreement, “So, I figure it hasn’t changed our lives that much, just the colour of our eyes, and, that’s no anything new really, is it?” He suggested, “Okay, well, I’m tired. Let’s go home.” Stiles said quietly to the pack, gripping Derek’s hand tightly and they began to weave their way back to the house through the preserve, laughing, hugging and generally enjoying the fact that they were still alive somehow.

 

The hunters came first, of course Stiles should have never expected that they could have a quiet life, that things could just be peaceful and relaxed and they would never need to worry about danger again. 

They barely had two weeks to recover from the events with the witches when they came. Fourteen of them. All of them armed with guns that were full of wolfsbane bullets, ready to rip all of them apart. They didn’t take the direct approach, not to begin with. Instead they were smart, they waited until Sam had gone to the grocery store before snatching him, leaving the impala abandoned in the car park. 

Percy and Miller had been the one to spot it and call Scott, they’d all arrived within minutes of each other and Dean had barely breathed since. 

“Where is he? Who has my brother?” Dean snarled angrily at nobody in particular, he was scared, terrified, and so angry, someone had taken his brother and he would kill every single one of them before they laid a hand on Sam. 

Stiles was furious too, Derek could tell by the way his eyes flashed dangerously, the same red and gold as Derek’s, Stiles had been right, it was gorgeous, he was gorgeous, and Derek was thrilled with every second they got to spend together. But, he couldn’t think about that right now, instead he needed to focus on Sam, on finding him, on rescuing him. He inhaled, trying to catch a scent and then stilled. There was one scent, in amongst all the others, that he recognised, and he knew, as soon as he said it out loud, that all hell would break loose. 

“Bobby?” Derek queried, glad that the older man had decided to stay in Beacon Hills with them, “You’ve spent time with us, you can see we’re not the monsters you once thought we were, right?” Derek asked. 

“Yeah.” Bobby said, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“How likely do you think you are to be able to convince other hunters that we aren’t monsters? That we’re just humans with a tendency for slightly rarer meat?” Derek continued. 

“Hang on, I recognise that scent…” Scott started and Derek waved him in to silence. 

“Well, um, I can pretty convincing when I need to be.” Bobby said a moment later, “But, it’ll depend on the hunters too. If they’d be willing to even consider the possibility that they’re wrong.” 

“Okay. So, on a scale of one to ten, how likely would it be that, um, this particular person,” He glanced across at Dean who was still staring at the impala, apparently oblivious to their conversation, “If this, um, this person, was, very stubborn, what would be the chances of that?” 

“Derek, spit it out. Sam is missing. They could be killing him right this second. Tell us what you know.” Stiles demanded and Derek grimaced, he didn’t want to say it, he knew it would crush Dean, but, Stiles was right, as usual, they needed to know. 

“John Winchester. His scent is here.” Derek blurted out and Dean’s eyes shot to his, flashing blue dangerously for a second before he got it under control. 

“You’re certain?” Dean asked. 

“Yeah, I remember his scent, I’m definite.” 

“I can smell it too. He’s been here.” Scott agreed. 

“That son of a bitch.” Bobby and Dean both cursed at the same time. 

“If he hurts him…” Dean began. 

“He wouldn’t hurt Sam, he’s his son…” Bobby tried to reason. 

“He tried to kill him before! He tried to kill him and he shot me instead!” Dean shouted. “No, no way. I’m going to kill him, I’m going to rip him apart piece by piece and I’m going to enjoy it.” Dean snarled. 

“You’ll have to get in line.” Noah said, resting his fingers on his gun. 

“So, playing stupid here, but, this is the guy that’s my uncle, right?” Stiles asked and Noah glanced at him before nodding, “And, we’re certain he has Sam?” Several more nods went through the group and Stiles nodded, “Okay, well, this is good then.” 

“Good!? How the hell is this good!?” Dean shouted in outrage. 

“It’s good, because I know a piece of magic that means you are able to track people with the same blood as you, it’s easier the closer relation you are, and, you’re John’s son…”

“He’s no father of mine.” Dean growled. 

“Alright, you have the same blood as him, so, I should be able to use your blood to find him and then we can find Sam.” Stiles explained. 

“But, he’s a werewolf now, won’t his blood be different?” Peter queried. 

“Not enough to stop the magic from working, not if I believe it’ll work. And, I believe it will work, so, give me your hand.” Stiles said and Dean held his hand out instantly, barely grimacing as Stiles took a knife from his pocket and sliced it across his palm, spilling his blood. 

Stiles ran his fingertips through the blood on Dean’s palm, creating a spiral as he closed his eyes and muttered something under his breath that was quiet enough that none of them heard. A second later his eyes shot open, glowing their brilliant red and gold, before he dropped Dean’s hand and moved towards the cars. 

“Let’s go. Now.” Stiles ordered as they all rushed to follow his command. Stiles directed Derek out of town, back towards their own house and Derek couldn’t help but glance at Stiles in uncertainty. 

“Stiles? You, um, you know we’re heading home?” Derek asked after another minute. 

“I know. He’s there. Waiting for us.” Stiles hissed angrily and Derek felt a sudden rage at the thought of an intruder in their home, threatening a member of their pack, he would kill him, he would kill all of them. 

They pulled up at the house in a convoy of cars, Stiles took a second to take in the scene in front of them, there were fourteen of them, all of them lined up along the front porch, guns in hands, they looked casual, relaxed almost, as if taking out a pack of wolves was something they did every day. Sam was with them, he was tied up, a rope around his arms and chest, his hands tied together so that he couldn’t cut through them without cutting into himself first, he was also gagged and it looked like someone had hit him a few times if the marks on his face were anything to go by. Stiles was furious. 

He didn’t know which of these men were John Winchester, he guessed it would possibly be the man holding tight to Sam’s ropes, as if to stop him from running away, Stiles was more than willing to bet Sam wouldn’t be capable of much right now, not considering the fact even he could smell the wolfsbane that coated the ropes binding Sam. 

Dean was out of the car before they pulled to a complete stop, flinging himself out of the vehicle and storming towards the steps until one of the hunters levelled a gun in his direction. 

“You let him go right now.” Dean snarled, his claws protruding and his eyes flashing blue. 

“See, I told you, an entire pack of them, monsters the lot of them.” John said and the hunters all nodded in agreement. 

“And what about me? Am I a monster now too?” Bobby asked. 

“Singer? What the hell are you doing involved in all this?” John said in shock. 

“I got a call from my boys, that they needed help, and you know what I did. I came. And I helped them. Like any father should do.” Bobby replied and John looked like the man had physically slapped him. 

“They’re not Sam and Dean, not anymore. Look at them. Really look at them. They are monsters. If you’re too blind to see that, then you should die along with them.” 

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than at their sides.” Bobby said simply. “But, you seem to think we’re the ones that are going to be dying today. I think differently, drop your guns and leave. Nobody has to die. But, if they do, it’ll be you.” Bobby warned but nobody moved. “Thompson, I’ve known you how long? Twenty-five years? You honestly think I’d be helping them, standing with them, if they were a threat to anyone?” 

“You’re blinded by your love for them Bobby, happens to the best of us.” Thompson replied. 

“I’m not blinded. You are. Blinded by hatred. Look at this pack, this family, it’s not just werewolves here, there’s humans, hunters, true Alphas, banshees, were-coyotes and sparks, there’s a nurse, a Sheriff, a deputy, an architect, a lawyer, so many school kids that I can’t even keep count, there’s fathers and mothers, daughters and sons, Uncles, nieces, nephews, friends, brothers, sisters. This is a family. They are no more a threat to anyone than you or I are. And if you kill them, you’ll be the monster. Killing innocents? Is that what you do now?” Bobby said, Thompson actually looked uncertain, as did a few of the others, and Stiles thought that maybe they would all come out of this unscathed. 

“Enough of your bull Bobby.” John shouted, pulling on Sam’s ropes so that they stumbled, “If you all care about him as much as you say you do, every single one of you is going to get on your knees, right now, or I shoot him in the head and not even one of you is coming back from that.” 

“Okay, Bobby, you had your turn. Now it’s mine.” Stiles said furiously, taking a step forward and calling to his magic, feeling it surge outwards at the thought of anyone hurting Sam, or any of his pack. Instantly all the hunters froze, seemingly unable to move and Stiles grinned ferally, “You see, the way I see it, you had your chance to leave, unharmed I might add, and, from what I’ve been told, you, specifically you John, were told if you came back here you’d die.” Stiles stepped forwards again, snatching Sam from John’s frozen fingertips and handing him to Dean who was sobbing in relief as Noah and Melissa undid Sam’s ropes. 

“What the hell are you?” John ground out through gritted teeth. 

“What am I? I’m a spark.” Stiles smirked, “A very powerful one I might add. Although, I don’t know any other sparks to compare to, so, I guess I could be a kind of average one actually. But, since I’m the one keeping you trapped in your own body right now, we’re going to go with fairly powerful, that sounds fair, doesn’t it?” 

“You can’t hold us all forever.” John spat in hatred. 

“You’re right, I can’t. But, I can hold you long enough to slaughter every single one of you without a second thought. You know what though John? What’s really funny to me? You’ve asked what I am, but you haven’t asked who I am. Isn’t that funny?” Stiles smiled almost manically. 

“Who are you then?” John said. 

“Well, funny story, I’m your nephew, you’re my uncle. I’m Dean and Sam’s cousin, Stiles. I would say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but, it’s not and I’m not a very good liar. So, I’m not going to bother. What I will say though, is that you’re calling your sons monsters, saying that they aren’t themselves anymore, but, what would Mary think about all this?” 

“How dare you!” John growled. 

“How dare I!? How dare you!?” Stiles shouted in outrage, thunder rumbling ominously in the air above them, even though there wasn’t a cloud in sight, “You know, I’m going to tell you a story while we’re sat here. A few weeks back, there was this evil witch, intent on killing all of us and torturing me for the rest of my years. Anyway, I killed her, I controlled lightning and put it though my own body in order to kill her. See?” Stiles pulled up the sleeve of his shirt to show a portion of his Lichtenberg scar. “Now, funny story, I died. Not entirely sure how long I was dead for, but, you don’t get to do something like that without paying the price, and, from what I hear, it wasn’t a pretty sight. But, do you know what happened to me when I died? I saw my mom and I saw my aunt Mary and they both spoke to me.”

“What?” John asked in shock. At least Stiles had explained what had happened to the pack, so that they weren’t surprised by Stiles’ statement. 

“Oh yeah, we had a real cosy chat. Fun times. Me and mom and Mary.” 

“What did she say?” John whispered. 

“Oh you know, the usual, how proud she was of her boys, how much she loved them, how she thinks the world of them blah, blah, blah.” Stiles said as John tried to free himself from his magic to throw himself at Stiles. 

“You bastard, you’re lying, you don’t know my wife, she was nothing to you! Nothing!” John screamed in rage. 

“But, she was. She was my aunty, by blood.” Stiles grinned, “Now, funny thing that I’ve been thinking about, that I can’t get out of my head, is, where did my magic come from? I mean, apparently, as a spark, I was born with magic, I just didn’t know I had it. So, it must be hereditary, right? Except, dad, have you ever shown any signs of magic? Because I don’t remember you ever using magic, do you?” 

“No, I can’t say I have son.” Noah replied. 

“So, that must mean that it came from my mom’s side, and, you know her sister was, right?” Stiles grinned as John paled as realisation dawned on him. 

“No, no, Mary was not a witch! I know that!” 

“Maybe she was, maybe she wasn’t, I guess we’ll never know, but I think my mom was, on some level anyway. And I also think Mary knew. And you know what she did? She didn’t abandon her. She came and saw her and spent time with her and they were sisters, they’d always be sisters and nothing would change that. And yet, you? Your son gets bitten and you try to kill him, and you shoot your other son when he tries to protect him, meaning he has to be bitten in an effort to keep him alive. You know, Mary would be so ashamed of you.” Stiles said disappointedly. 

“Don’t you dare talk about my wife! You son of a bitch!” 

“And don’t you dare talk about my mom.” Stiles said, clicking his fingers and John fell silent. “So, my choices are this,” He looked to the other hunters, “I can kill all of you, long before any of you can even move, so, that’s option one. But, honestly, I don’t like bloodshed, I mean, it’s not beyond my capabilities, but, I just don’t enjoy killing people. I will do, if necessary, to protect myself and my family, but, it’s not usually my first choice. Although I may make an exception for you John.” Stiles said easily, like he wasn’t discussing murder. 

“What’s option two?” Thompson asked.  
“Ah, I’m so glad you asked that.” Stiles said excitedly, “Option two, is that you all leave here alive, and you spread the word that we are not a danger to anyone who doesn’t wish us harm. But that if they come here, with the intention of hurting any of my pack, I will tear them apart a piece at a time and make them beg for death.” Stiles threatened and all the hunters gulped in fear, “Now, which one would you like?” 

“And you won’t come after us?” Another hunter asked.

“Why would I? If you’re no threat to my pack, then I don’t really care what you do. But, if I got the slightest hint of you trying this again, coming back here again, with bigger forces or some crap like that, I will come after you. I will kill you and I won’t lose any sleep over it, I’m not horrible enough to kill your families, because I won’t hurt innocents, because I’m not like John here, but, I don’t have qualms with killing anyone who threatens my family. The choice is yours.” Stiles offered. 

“I want option two!” A third hunter called out and several of them nodded in agreement. 

“Great. Okay, well, here’s how it’s going to work. I’m going to use some of my magic on you, and, what it’s going to do is root around inside your brain, and if you ever think of coming back here and trying to hurt us again, it’ll tell me and I’ll know exactly where you are, how to find you and I will come and kill you, slowly. Sound fair?” Stiles said. 

“And if we object to you using magic on us?” Thompson queried, eyeing Bobby slightly. “Do you use magic on him too?” 

“What? No? Bobby has never been any threat to any of us. He’s only ever helped this pack.” Scott interrupted. 

“I mean, I was a threat to begin with. Until I saw what you were really like.” Bobby grumbled. 

“Oh, right, yes, Bobby was super threatening.” Stiles said and Bobby grinned at him. “So? Your choice? Option one or option two?” 

“And me? You’ll let me go too?” John asked. 

“I don’t think that choice is mine to make. You were spared once before, and you came back with over a dozen men, leading them, kidnapping your own son, threatening to kill him. You had your second chance. Do you think you deserve a third? Or, more importantly, do you think he deserves another chance?” He turned to Sam and Dean. 

“He tried to kill Sammy, twice. I don’t let anyone get away with that.” Dean said. 

“Dean, he’s still your dad.” Isaac muttered. 

“He stopped being my father the moment he tried to shoot Sam.” 

“And ended up shooting you instead?” Sam commented, “You know what, you’re right, he’s not our dad, not anymore, we’ve got a real family here. A family that love us. He’s nothing. He’s alone. I don’t care what you do to him, but, I know I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life. And I also don’t want to be a murderer. You kill him now, in cold blood, that’s what we become. We’ve never killed anyone we haven’t been able to stop any other way.” 

“This magic, it’ll work?” Dean asked and Stiles nodded, “Alright, let him go, but, if he thinks about coming back, if he ever plans to hurt our family, you don’t go after him, I’ll kill him myself. You get that old man? You’ll die at my hands if you ever think of coming back here.” Dean warned. 

“Alright, if you’re sure?” Stiles asked and Dean and Sam both nodded. “Okay John, this is it, your final chance. You threaten us again and that’s it. No coming back from it. You’ll die. One of us will kill you. Probably Dean. And you won’t see it coming. You understand? You’re willing to walk away from this? To let us live so that you don’t die?” 

“I…” John began. 

“Because, really, if you are willing to let us live, maybe you don’t think we’re as monstrous as you make out.”

“No, you’re evil.” John snapped. 

“Me? Definitely. No doubt about it. Pure straight up evil. But, spending six years in the witching realm will do that to a guy. What’s your excuse?”

“Look, I won’t kill you. I won’t plot or plan a way to kill you. If you let me go, you’ll never see me again.” John said and Stiles glanced to Derek who nodded in confirmation. 

“Alright, so, you’re telling the truth apparently. And I’m a reasonable guy, so, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt. Don’t make me regret it.” Stiles said, moving forwards and placing his hand on John’s temple for a split second, long enough to feel his magic work, before letting it go. 

He moved through the rest of the hunters, reaching out to rest his fingertips against each of their temples, using his magic and then dropping his hands. He didn’t expect it to take quite so much out of him, but, it was worth it, to not have to kill and yet still make sure his family was safe, it was a sacrifice he would make time and time again. 

“Okay, one last thing before you go.” Stiles said, before waving his hand and all their weapons flew from their hands and landed clear across the lawn. A moment later all the hunters could move again and they were looking at Stiles in astonishment. 

“Just like that?” Thompson asked. 

“Just like that.” Bobby said, “Like I said, they aren’t the bad guys here.” He advised, eyeing John warily as the man descended the front porch one step at a time. 

Stiles watched as they piled in to the cars they had arrived in, as each man continued to stare at Stiles as they started the vehicles and pulled away slowly. 

“Bye uncle John! See you around! Or not!” Stiles shouted loudly, waving enthusiastically at the retreating hunters as the rest of the pack chuckled at his antics. 

“You’re sure about this?” Noah asked. 

“It’s too late to change our minds now, well, actually, we could, but, it’s kind of going back on our word and we sort of want it out there that maybe we aren’t the monsters they think we are.” Stiles shrugged, wrapping his fingers in Derek’s. 

Over the next few weeks Stiles and Derek’s relationship only seemed to grow in strength, Stiles constantly wondered how he’d gotten so lucky to have someone as amazing as Derek love him. He knew Derek questioned the same thing, but, that was only because Derek had muttered it out loud on their first date and Stiles had blushed so brightly he was certain the colour would never fade from his cheeks. 

They were happy, really happy, happier than Stiles felt that he deserved. They were settling back into some kind of routine, Stiles was back at school, Derek was back at work, they spent time together in the evenings, sitting on the sofa, holding hands as they were surrounded by their pack. Sometimes they went out for dinner or to the movies, walking back to the car as they held hands, stealing kisses in the dark cinema screen, or in the front seat of the restored jeep or Derek’s camaro, Stiles kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“You know I love you?” Derek said on their way back from their latest date, squeezing Stiles’ hand tightly. “Nothing is ever going to change that.” 

“Okay.” Stiles said quietly. 

“You get this look in your eyes sometimes, that you think I’m going to leave you, or run away, or get fed up of you. I just want you to know that I’m not going to. Not ever. I love you Stiles.”

“I love you too.” He replied, “It’s not you, it’s not that I doubt your word, I know you love me, and, I love you too, more than I could possibly ever say. It’s just…I don’t know how to day it without sounding stupid.” 

“Well, say it regardless and I’ll tell you if you are being stupid or not.” Derek commented and Stiles grinned at him. 

“Okay, well, I…I know how stupid it sounds, but, god, I, you don’t know what it was like there, the things I had to do there, I was…I was a bad person, I did bad things, and, I just…I keep thinking, I don’t deserve to be this happy, like, something is going to happen to stop me from being happy, because, I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve you, after everything I did, you deserve someone so much better than me. I just, I keep waiting for you to realise that you can do so much better. I keep waiting for something to happen, because, this can’t be right, this can’t be what I deserve. Can it?” Stiles explained and Derek slowed down the car enough to turn and look at him. 

“Stiles, no. No. Just. No.” Derek said in shock. “I know you haven’t told me everything, and you don’t have to, not if you don’t want to, but, if you want to, that’s fine too. Just, okay, what you have told me, you did what you had to do, to survive. To not break. To get home. I don’t care what you did, all I care about is that you got home. And, you know what, you do deserve to be happy. And, if you don’t think you deserve to be happy, think about me, I deserve to be happy, right?” Derek said and Stiles furrowed his brow but nodded in agreement, “Exactly, so, if you ever doubt it, ever think that you don’t deserve to be happy, then think about how I deserve to be happy, and, you make me happy. You make me so freaking happy, like, I can’t believe you want to be with me, that you’d give me a chance to be with you even after everything I did, I mean, I left you Stiles, I left you alone with everything going on here and you had to deal with Donovan and nearly dying and finding out you had cousins and getting kidnapped and made to fight and then getting stabbed and tortured and taken to the witching realm and believing for six years that all of us hated you. That none of us wanted you around. I just, you are the best person I know, the absolute best, so, please, just, please, just, whenever you think like this, that you don’t deserve this, just, talk to me, that’s all I’m asking, just talk to me, and I’ll reassure you and tell you how amazing you are and how much I love you. Okay?” Derek asked. 

“Yeah, yeah, I guess I can do that. But, you know, I don’t blame you for leaving, I don’t hate you for doing it and you couldn’t have known what was going to happen. Besides, you came back, you fought Catherine’s spell long enough to make sure I knew the truth, you brought me back from death, Derek, you are incredible too, and there’s nothing to forgive, you didn’t do anything wrong, it’s not like I’m giving you a second chance or something, you haven’t even had a first chance, this is your first shot, my first shot, our first shot at this, and there’s probably going to be ups and downs, and probably going to be times when we disagree and argue and all that, because it’s us and we’re both stubborn and argumentative, but, like, there’s nobody else in this world that I would rather spend my time with than you.” Stiles replied and Derek beamed at him as they turned down the road leading back to the house. 

“You know I feel exactly the same.” He grinned. 

“Good, we actually agree on a thing dude, I’m so proud of us.” Stiles teased, his smile dropping slightly when they pulled into the clearing and saw several cars parked there that didn’t belong to the pack. Derek growled slightly as he saw the entire pack gathered outside facing off against another pack, Scott looked tense, glancing across at the car as it pulled up and Stiles and Derek both climbed out, moving towards their pack while assessing the other pack. Stiles tensed when he recognised the other Alpha, looking to Jackson to see how he was dealing with his other pack turning up in Beacon Hills. 

“Stiles.” Nick said in greeting and Stiles nodded at him in reply, moving to stand next to Dean. “May I just say that you are looking incredibly handsome today? And even better looking in person than I thought you would.” Stiles blushed slightly, not sure how to reply to that. 

“Well, Stiles, may I just say that you look incredibly handsome every day.” Derek snapped aggressively from next to him and Stiles let out a grin. 

“Thanks babe. You too.” He smiled while Nick flashed red eyes in Derek’s direction and everyone tensed. 

“Please tell me you didn’t just try and get one of my betas to submit to you?” Scott snarled angrily. 

“Like he could get Derek to submit to him.” Stiles said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. 

“Look, I didn’t come here to get in a pissing contest with some stupid beta…” Nick snapped. 

“Excuse me, who the hell are you to call him stupid? I’ll show you who’s freaking stupid.” Stiles snapped, taking a step forward and stilling when Derek rested a hand on his arm. 

“Relax Stiles, no point in killing him until we find out what he is actually doing here.” Derek advised calmly and Stiles sighed. 

“Fine. Then we kill him.” He pouted and Derek grinned.

“Yeah, then we can kill him if you want to.” Derek laughed.

“You’re not serious?” Nick snorted with amusement, “You’re willing to go to war with all the wolves in my pack because I called him stupid?” 

“The way I see it, it won’t be much of a war.” Stiles said, indicating the wolves behind Nick. 

“And I didn’t think it was necessary to bring all my pack with me, but, anything happens to me, they are under orders to join forces with all the wolves in our country and march here to avenge me. That’s not something you really want to start, is it?” Nick commented. 

“And you really don’t want to threaten me or my pack, buddy, because you really won’t like what happens when they’re threatened.” Stiles remarked. 

“Stiles. Take a breath.” Dean said. 

“Fine.” Stiles said, gripping Derek’s hand tightly to try and keep him calm. 

“Good, now that we’ve dealt with your little temper tantrum, let’s get down to business, I’m here to offer Jackson his place in our pack back.” Nick said and Jackson looked at him stunned. 

“Um? But, you said I couldn’t come back? Not unless I made it worth your while? And, like, honestly, I’m happy here. I’m back with Lydia and my family, and I’m happy. I don’t want to come back.” Jackson replied. 

“Well, the thing is Jackson, you were my beta before you were Scott’s. So, technically, you were mine first, and, well, you know how that works. I can always call you back to being mine.” Nick said. 

“But, that’s ridiculous. Why would you even want him back? I mean, he’s ours. He wants to be here. Why would you want a beta who doesn’t want to be there?” Lydia snapped. 

“I don’t. Not really. But, you see, I heard something, quite amazing really, about you having a spark in your pack.” Nick began and they all tensed slightly, “So, the way I see it, either I take Jackson with me against his will, or your spark comes with me instead. I mean, I’d prefer it wouldn’t come to this, but, I can also see that you’re going to be unreasonable about it. So, the choices are, I call Jackson back to me, or I take your spark.”

“And if we refuse?” Sam asked, glad that Dean and Derek had both moved minutely, not enough for Nick to notice, but, enough to put themselves between Nick and Stiles. 

“Then we’d refer back to that whole thing of my whole pack joining forces with all the wolves and attacking you, which would result in serious casualties on your side. So, your choice?” Nick offered. Scott looked to Jackson, obviously worried about what to do, then his gaze went to Stiles who only rolled his eyes, waving his fingers and stilling Nick and the wolves behind him. 

“Remember when I said you really wouldn’t like what happened if you threatened my family?” Stiles said and Nick stared at him with wide eyes. 

“You’re the spark I’ve been told about?” He said stunned. 

“Obviously.” Stiles said. 

“Well, in that case, Stiles, let me tell you about what I’m offering you. Jackson told me about how you felt so alone, so lonely, even as part of a pack, you felt there was nobody there for you. I’m telling you, you wouldn’t feel like that with me. You’d be welcomed into our pack with open arms, you’d be given a high position in our pack, you would even become my mate in due course, you would never be lonely again.” Nick said and Stiles stared at him revolted. 

“Dude, I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were literally the last person on the planet.” Stiles scoffed. 

“I wouldn’t turn my offer down so quickly, or do I need to remind you about the other situation?” Nick said. 

“You mean threatening to take Jackson? Yeah, that’s not happening.” Stiles replied. 

“You can’t stop me. You could kill me, but, that will result in a war, you don’t really want that? Do you?” Nick said. 

“I’ll go with you.” Jackson interrupted, letting go of Lydia’s hand and looking at her apologetically, “If it’s a case of me or Stiles, then, take me instead. Stiles stays here.”

“I don’t want you though.” Nick snapped. 

“Well you’re not taking him. Or Stiles.” Scott growled dangerously. 

“So you want war instead?” Nick remarked. 

“Yeah, that’s not happening either.” Stiles said and they all looked at him in confusion, “You’re forgetting something very important. You aren’t Jackson’s original Alpha. That is Derek. So you can’t take Jackson, because his original Alpha wants him here.” 

“Except Derek isn’t an Alpha anymore, is he?” Nick laughed, “Which means he has none of the benefits of that, like beta loyalty.” 

“Weird, because, I could have sworn that, you’re my Alpha, aren’t you?” Stiles grinned and Derek smiled in reply, his eyes flashing that brilliant red and gold that made Nick gasp in shock. “Which means…”

“Jackson, you are not going anywhere. You’re my beta before you were Nick’s, so you follow my orders first, understood?” Derek ordered and Jackson nodded quickly, smiling at Derek gratefully. 

“Now, it’s obvious that you messed up on that one, so, let’s discuss this little war that you think is going to happen if anything happens to you here...” Stiles continued, taking a predative step towards Nick.

“You kill me and there will be war.” Nick threatened but it sounded weak and he looked incredibly nervous, Stiles could smell it like a shark smells blood in the water and he smiled ferally. 

“Really? Let’s talk to your betas, shall we?” Stiles clicked his fingers and Nick fell to his knees on the ground, “The way I see it, I let you live and you go back to London and you think to yourselves, ‘do I really want to go back there and die for that piece of crap who couldn’t stop the spark even the slightest bit?’ because that’ll be what will happen, you come back here, even with all the wolves in the world and you threaten my family, you will die. No matter the cost to me. You see, I did this thing the other week, there was a big, bad witch, out to kill all of them and take me back to the witching realm, side note, I spent six months there, which is six years their time, and I learned a lot. I got to watch a thousand times when they skinned people alive, I got to help keep them alive until all the skin was peeled from their flesh. So, yeah, I damn well learned a lot while I was there. Including this nifty spell that I did the other week. It calls lightning up out of the middle of nowhere and uses me as a conductor, see,” He pulled the collar of his shirt so they could see the Lichtenberg scar on his skin, “and it smites anyone in the vicinity who isn’t protected by my blood, which, surprise, all my pack are. So, think about it, you come for me, and I wipe you all out long before you get anywhere near my pack. Especially since Derek can pull me back from the dead, so I can just keep repeating it over and over until everyone you know and love is dead. So, you really want to do this? Because, honestly, I can do it over and over and over.” Stiles grinned manically and the betas looked to Nick nervously. 

“Don’t listen to him.” Nick snarled. 

“You shut up.” Stiles said, clicking his fingers again and Nick screamed in agony as his ankle snapped, “Big baby. You’ll heal. If I let you live. So, what do you think guys? Are you wall ready to die for him?” 

“Um, no?” One of the betas said uncertainly. 

“Exactly the right answer!” Stiles grinned, “So, do you want to leave?” 

“Yes.” The same beta said. 

“Alive and not in body bags?” 

“Preferably.” Another one commented. 

“Great. So, let’s agree on a plan here.” Stiles said glancing to Scott who was staring at him in astonishment. 

“Okay, well, um, we’re not going to kill you. We’re going to let you leave. And in return, you go tell the other wolves that if they follow Nick, if they try to fight us, they will all die, you’ve witnessed the power of the spark in our pack, never mind our powers, so, it won’t be a war, it’ll be a massacre, and you’ll be on the losing side. We don’t want to kill you, but it doesn’t mean we won’t kill you if we have to. To protect our family. All we want to do is live in peace, if you threaten that, you will pay the price. Understood?” Scott said authoritatively. 

“Yeah.”, “Yes.”, “Okay.”, “Sure.” They all muttered in agreement and Stiles nodded before clicking his fingers again so that they could all move again. 

“You could have been happy as my mate.” Nick said, climbing to his feet unsteadily on his freshly healed ankle. 

“I would never be your mate. I already have mine and he’s perfect thanks.” Stiles snarled, flashing the same red and gold eyes at Nick. The other Alpha stared in astonishment, looking to Derek and then to Stiles, both glaring at him with red and gold eyes, clutching tightly on to each other’s hands. He backed away with a look of fear in his features, not looking away from the two of them until he’d climbed into the cars and all of them had fled. 

“Have I ever mentioned how fucking terrifying you can be sometimes?” Erica commented and Stiles grinned. 

“Have I ever mentioned how perfect you are too?” Derek added and Stiles softened, looking at him with such love that Derek felt his heart skip a beat. 

“Yeah, well, you’re not so bad yourself.” Stiles smiled happily, tightening his grip on Derek’s hand. 

“So, you reckon that would work? Like, continuing to get struck by lightning and Derek bringing you back?” Cora asked. 

“Hell no.” Stiles snorted, “I’m still amazed it work the first time. No way am I trying it again unless it’s an absolute necessity. But, there was no need for them to know that.” Stiles mocked and Derek wasn’t sure to kiss him or kill him, he went with option one, wrapping his arms around Stiles and pulling him into a kiss that Stiles returned eagerly. 

“So, we’re safe for now, want to go to bed? I’m exhausted, that whole threatening thing was sort of tiring.” Stiles muttered when they broke the kiss, the rest of the pack already heading inside and leaving them to it. 

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Derek said, following Stiles into their home and knowing that everything was going to be fine because they were together.


End file.
